The Silence Between Words

its definitely a default setting: to avoid how I feel until I'm nauseous, until someone tells me to be cautious, cuz I don't know how to be presumptuous. this whole new script has me falling on my knees as I cry to be bled out, drained every last drop until I sought out to be the newer version of a whisper shout. eyes locked when you walk in, yearning for an untouched agony in this. wishing for a new pain I already miss, while I act like I can't feel any of this. I always go back to my own bubble; where time slows down for every thought, where tears crystallise on the spot, and nights feel brighter than the sun's shot. new dimension to every small belief; could it be a better world from the outside? could it be a stage to strip down the pride? the desperation to be a pawn that died. "everyone gets one minute of stagetime" ran to the back of the grid to be the first, came undone in the light of all the worst, maybe this is what I longed for and rehearsed. but a...

you're doing so well  in that new tool kit, but I'll still wonder— what if we didn't quit? rating stories of our friends back home, silent promises  let our hearts still roam. old letters in the back of my book yell tales of the days of stealing a look. we were in the corner dancing to Perfect, still in the corner, senses wrecked. walk through the same roads, familiar places, hold each other the way I'd die for. does your dad hate me for leaving traces? that's old news now, except the letters I tore. do you speak like the person I knew? or like the person, I was never gonna know. do you still slip my name out of the blue? or you've forgotten how it used to flow. the wait before you showed up in the room, the nausea on my way to your place, always ended up in a weird feeling of fume, the ride back home with tears down my face. the version of me who was loved by you— letting go, while still holding on to. loving myself  felt wrong when you  weren't there  to s...

This sanguine feeling fades too quick, I'm back to thinking about the what-if. What if my face gave away my trick? Thirty minutes or thirty seconds at the edge of the cliff. The right side of the wrong lane, I should've known what was going on. The steering wasn't balanced again, Thirty minutes or thirty seconds gone. The smell of insanity was too close to ignore. What if the car gave up on this highway? Where would I run for help, and what for? Thirty minutes or thirty seconds before it all turned grey. No way I would slow down after the scar. Fourth gear, full speed, but still on the wrong lane. Might've got hit, but wouldn't mind the dirt and tar. Thirty minutes or thirty seconds of insane. Everything all at once on a Sunday. So blinded to see the scar it left. But I still feel the rage when I replay Thirty minutes or thirty seconds left.

we're all just mere imitations in a play of life, what if the stage lights go out in the strife? I can smell the smoke and hear the knife, a mile away from a damaged and shattered rife. we're different in medium, object, or mode, but hung onto the sense of imitation, where rhythm, harmony, and melody flowed, we bow to the natural art's liberation. we're the most imitating beings alive, to coexist in mirrors we build and burn, hanging on the stage with a thrive, desperate to be let down, to cry and yearn. we're characters either admirable or inferior, dying to be the accused in someone else's play, crying to be a victim in your own theatre, mere words and actions strung on display. we're starring in comedies or tragedies on the set, sit still and watch or be watched by the rest, mere bodies and voices in harmony and sweat, you either jump or are pushed and it's all for the best. 

When did life turn into a fake scenario? Am I bleeding after the war? Or am I blushing behind a door? It's such a mirror maze taken seriously; Walking in honourable fashion, Into yourself until you ashen. When did I turn it into an oddly crime? Am I guilty of choosing what I want? Or am I guilty for being nonchalant? I turned it into this subliminal game; Winning is so close to coming 2nd, Losing is not close to being reckoned. Was it always such a race of mice? Did she strave to death on the way? Or was she walked on until she turned grey? In the wildly tribute to all the dead, They gather around the leftover dirt, Say things that never sound assert. When did life become a beautiful tragedy? Am I the best thing that ever occurred? Or am I the only thing ever so absurd? My breath so light I might just lose it; Into the darkness of forever, Or into the brightness of never.

The pools are stagnant with dirt and leaves, I switch plans like I don't know my feet. Is it rest if I run to the Sunday feast? Or am I presumptuous to everyone I meet? The attack was hijacked for a noble cause, I was blamed for being too much in my thoughts. Sending cards to the dead is a lost cause, But don't tell me I'm presumptuous without a toss. Tame your lions and run to your den; You don't wanna watch me fail again. Keep waiting to hear the roars just when Being presumptuous means going down the wrong lane. Gentle, until I saw why I was held up. You can't expect me not to fight the chains they put up. The days seem like nights and I don't know where I'm stuck Between timelines or a presumptuous mess of luck. Lines are so blurred from where I stand. They got rid of the chains and tramps, But I'm left behind in time and span. I just wish I wasn't presumptuous, but I am.  

torch light and tight ropes tied to metal bars in a hideout. sip on inhibitions with high hopes, you say "I'm sure." when suffocating in doubt. the ropes pull tighter as the time ticks, so many choices not to choose from. returning to Earth when it's all fixed, but you're still searching for who to run from. your hearts put in the open, to bleed, and drain, and flow, and your mind's been so unspoken since the day you lied twice in a row. laughing with the wrong crowd, what a way to cover that pain? dark humour is death being proud, the silent mourning was vain. the dust wore off and the sun settled. look past the world's voices and commands, of who you are and what you'll be, and untie those ropes by reclaiming your lands.

lines were drawn and erased a number of times, watching the same episode I know all the lines. on a low-lit Sunday night in a despicable blaze, you show me how to escape from the haze. soon enough it was a whirlwind of small thoughts; 'is he thinking of me' I stop and analyze. down to every single word in a casual text, just to see the branches of your affection deflexed. waiting for you to lash out so I could run and hide behind all the high lines of armour. to live like you never happened in the day and your name on every thought doesn't stay. every hour just to see if you've worn me out, just to see if you can still talk me out, of eating a dry and tasteless fruit in the middle of a hurricane in a parachute. I wrote pages about you and burnt them, just to see if you could still say my name. in a spelling too wrong to overcome, or disappear into a cold air flame. so much thought to being next to a girl like me, I try to glow it down so you can shine. to every picture ...

The outsides are still rigid and rough, I dream of drowning in the lakes. Watching all of the city was enough, To make me want to go down till it breaks. Voids of light seem to avoid me, Or I'm just running from the best. Not proud to admit the blame's on me, Too scared to know if I failed the test. This phase isn't a phase anymore; Rather stare at a stone than my face. It's more than just anything I've worn, Want to rip my skin yet heal with pace. Doses of insecurity fed by society; I'm high but I'm the one to blame. For the differences and all the variety, I've built up in myself in pieces of shame. Everyone thought they kept me warm, But my ice heart didn't melt even an inch. Still, feel like running away after the storm, But I'm too cold to move or even flinch.

It's nurtured and damaged, So used that I can't feel it. Tried my best to protect it, But it's a beauty so damaged. It's loved and abused.  So much that it can't handle. Did everything for it not to be a scandal, But its a feather faded and over-used. It's special and sceptical. With trustworthy boundaries broken, And all the nights guilt has awoken. But it's such a shameful miracle. It's exceptional and underrated, On the verge to vanish and flourish Confused on which side lies it's wish For it's a voice too good to be wasted in a room full of noise. It's kind but made of stone. Too well put to let the guard down, So built up to vent it all out. But it's more than and object to dust alone. It's adorned and thrown. On the bathroom floor feeling unheard, Trying not to unfold and stay with the herd, But it's just a person who's words are unknown.

The knots were tied and strings still rust, we both knew our time was passing dust. Maybe it's the pressure of not seeing you, or the inclination to run away with you. Eighteen and school was closing at our start, we held on to each other until the ceiling was tilted right, but we never thought about the fact that we'd have to part in a couple of months or a few moments in white light. The untamed agony of the lost and found can all just be in my head, but I've drowned. Too much into this feeling I once thought was cute, too much in the thought of us and the rest is mute. When you know it'll end and it'll be gone to dirt, when you both agreed to ignore the alert, we knew something extraordinary was up, we knew something weirdly unsettling was stirred up. It's the most painful thing to know you have to let go, and now every time I hold you, I'm scared it's the last time. I can't feel my arms anymore, but I don't want to let go, like I'm trying...

Steps so quite, No one will notice him passing by. Breathing so shallow, No one has to know he's living by. Eyes so intense, But no one notices the brief lie. But it's all enough. Enough to make him feel the resilience, Enough to make him yeel in silence. Enough to run to loose his breath, Just so he's forced to catch it. The faint sound of his own breath, Enough to make him want to stop it. Questions; There're no right questions, just questions. Answers, Zipped in his mind of situations. Everything He gave up for, whispers with inhibitions. But it's all enough. Enough not to stop thinking bout consequences, Enough to love sinking in all the numb senses. Enough for him to stay trapped, Feeling safe just with himself. Enough to feel so strapped, To that place frozen like an ice shelf. Cold so warm, The bareness in his eyes of flame. Too modest To be in sight of all the ongoing fame. Blind and deaf For voices and nuisance from the blame. Still it's all enough. Eno...

grieving is beautiful, isn't it? all the days self doubting, all the noons self ranting, all the nights self deprecating. there's beauty in that valley, isn't there? so low yet feels like you're high, so invisible but catches the eye, so thoroughly shaded but why? oh how beautiful is it to be delusional. in the way her thought proceeds,  in the way her mind utterly bleeds, in the way she's living her deeds. the moon is beautiful, isn't it? among the stars but special and alone, admired enough to be on a throne,  listening to stories of the unknown. so much beauty in her mild thoughts,  pictures ivy covering the wet walls, the smell of wood down the halls, she freezes her world beside the falls. 

We were so young and unaware, Not knowing what we spoke about every day. It wasn't just words after that stare, Pieces of my heart lay down on your way. You stood there in the pouring rain, Lookin' so unfazed by your periphery. I couldn't promise a dance with the pain, The thought of getting bruised by the fall was so jittery. But I think we bruised ourselves, With every secret glace and comment. We let the guards fall like the shelves, With every secret touch and moment. We spoke when we weren't speaking, The excitement filled me way too much. We seek a lot when we aren't seeking, The wait is too painfully fun yet so much. I was just fifteen when you said things. Things that felt like wearing broken rings, Things that made me believe in invisible strings, Things I wish I never heard before you cut our wings.

I don't mind the phantoms dancing in my room, They watch and I stare back with terror. If he's creating shadows after the doom, I don't mind creating an unbeknownst figure. He's shifting sides like clashing trains. For me it's not so new, it's clockwork. Obsession turns tables for the dead in the rain, He definitely has a thing for the side work In between the gasps and wide eyes, His passion so undoubtedly a crime. I didn't mind all the sheepish white lies, But all I wished for was not the same old rhyme. I wipe my floors from the boodshed And lock corpses in my basement. Nightmares on film reel in my head, He says the 8 letters while I sense bait scent. All his white shirts and clean floors, The metallic taste of goodness so alarming, And all the smiles and nice things he implores, Trying so much not to be a corpse I drag without harming. There's beauty in that aftermath, Same old tears and sweat. White shirts stained from the bloodbath, You asked for ...

Big bets and you were bluffing, I knew your game back and front. Small talk cause the string was rusting, You knew the scrutiny was a hunt. You made me feel dense, Like all my visions were half-baked, Cause you knew it was checkmate, You made sure of the offense, When you told me to just lay low, Even when my tears flow. I'm trying so hard to look like I'm not trying at all And wishing so much, do I get better at all? Unsaid words overpowering my self-regard, Unseen light since you told me I'm shady and scarred. Crowded rooms and you were rushing, Like it'd make all your doings undone. I followed you when my walls were crushing, Now you push me to the edge of the run. I'm trying so hard to seem so cool and fun, But you seem to think you're the only one. In the back of my mind, I wish I didn't care so much, And pretend like I never cared about your touch. I'm trying so hard to look like I'm not trying at all, You dim the candles...

Tears fail to wipe your footprints from my shore. These nails are so deep I feel like I don't feel at all. Green pools look peaceful but not when you're drowning to its core. Your presence felt like grace ever so lost from the fall. Unsettling sounds of high tides of Rifted feelings so high. Could you see all the wrongs of Unsighted feelings that could fly. Everything happens for a reason, But you never fit in the bigger picture. Then whyd you be my season For all I wished as a teenager. Fears out of the tunnel when you slammed that door. There're so many voices in the screaming silence. Wish I was not affected by broken glasses on the floor, Stabbing me as I walk blinding my mind and sense. Everything happens for a reason, But fates irony is playing with my mind. For all my clothes stain bright crimson, Fading never to the darkness of void.

Late night subway rides, No one around to notice your grief. Lost i nte rest  in high tides, Of small moments, laughing in brief. Pretend to be trying, But you're not even close to please. Swimming in lost ecstasy,  Unable to drown in salt tears. Flash warning and mixed signals, Yelling at you to try better. Caution screams and siren calls, Every night to wake up stronger. Apologising turned underrated  For all the disruption you caused,  Believing turned overrated  For all the effort never paused. Highways leading to dead-ends, Don't see it when your close. Searching to make new friends, Don't see it when they're under your nose. Flash warnings and mixed signals, Yelling at you to try better. Caution screams and siren calls, Every night to wake up stronger.

Why are we supposed to feel the way we feel? Why do you always hurt knowing I cannot heal? Why are we living on promises that don't have seal? Why do you make me believe that this is all real? You've painted me blue, Everytime I look at you. Movie tickets for two, Making me believe you were true. Why'd you stop my time? Why'd you change my mind? Why'd you pretend to try? When all you were, was just a lie. Why are we supposed to pretend we are glad? Why do you have that effect on me which makes me so mad? Why are we stuck to the nails of the past we had? Why do you have a hold on strings that I cant reach a tad? Your smiles in my Polaroids, Still recovering from the fall, Heart flooding with high tides, After you drowned it with your bond. Why'd you say you're mine? Why'd you act all the damn time? Why'd you always make me cry? When all you were, was just a lie.

Is this another thing you left undone? Is this another waste of time under the sun? Is this just something about having fun? Is this something you'd remember just for memories? Is this another thing you'd give up with no worries? Or is this just another story that the wind carries? Still standing on this empty road, People passing by the time, Everyone moved on from the past load, But you said things that stopped my time. Is this another incident in the past? Till sunset playing the game of darts, Still bleeding but you moved on fast, So was this just a coincidence of hearts? Is this another lie you kept? Is this something  worth being accepted? Or is this just another story meant to be swept? Still healing while waiting for you, For something that might never happen at all, Easy to move on from anyone but you, Cause I'm on the floor recovering the fall. Is this another accident that shouldn't last? Sitting home searching for my lost parts Stolen that n...