Sunday 13 January 2019

If I had a fork in my hand...

If I had a fork in my hand
At this time, I’d pierce it
Right into my heart,
To see what’s it made of
Is it steel? Or glass?
Or is it just stale blood
That would ooze out of it.

The warmth in my blood
Is not there anymore
Been a while I felt
That heartbeat
The one which dances
To the tunes of dreams
And not the one which
Is made to fear wretched screams.

Had you asked me a while ago
About how I felt, I’d say explosive
The one who’s head could explode
But today if you care to ask
I’d just say I’m too tired to even
Acknowledge the numbness.

The sleep and the smiles are not mine
I didn’t know when sadness and sorrow
Abandoned me in the middle of nowhere
This breathlessness would kiss me
And leave, as I crave for fresh air.

I know, I told you I’m a warrior
I am sorry, I am not, I failed
Can I please get back to
Being a loser self and a failed warrior?
Please.

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