" Someone please save me from myself. "

-

Everyone sympathizes with me,
For my neurotic behaviour.
But no one does any good.
They say it's all immaterial,
So I talk to myself
To ease my mind.
I play, I draw, I write
But nothing ever works.
So I've decided
The whole day I will sit idly by
And I will lay wide awake at night.
I know, years would pass by,
But still it would just be the same fight.

-

𝙄𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬,
𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬?

𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵_
𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵?
𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘺, 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘥.

𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯
𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘺.

𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴/ 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥
𝘛𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶
𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘺.

-

The 20s

Clearly, I'm in the wrong side of early 20s_
Lying unconscious with a fractured heart,
And waking up with sore eyes,
But I don't know_
If it's the grace that I love to carry
Or it's just a disgrace to be so delicate,
To be still capable of spilling out
A little goodness among all the cruelties.

But I'm happy as I'm running out of time.
And by the late 20s,
I would be happier
When I would sense death
As the essence of this entity,
'cause soaking in the duplicity for so long,
Has made me feel terribly sick.
So I walk with my eyes closed
As the world has lately started to seem
Like nothing but lie.

-

I push people away
because I'm afraid
of them getting tired
and leaving me,
at some point of time.
So, I tend to end things
before they even start.
And I'm not sorry.

-

I doubt,
Does an empty heart
truly ever become empty?
'Cause most of the times,
the occupants of an empty heart_
are the ruins of the memories
of an overcherished past.

-

You greet me with sweet gestures,
Just to lead me to confused goodbyes.

-

In this journey of healing,
Years seem to be the passersby to my wounds.

-

To my younger self_
I know you couldn't have been more brave, when you were fooled, robbed, threatened and triggered to loose your self control.
But how can I be proud of you, when your existence gave birth to a newer (grown up) and sophisticated version of yourself?
You will never know what it feels like_
To exist after loosing all of the innocence.
Or to be alive after loosing a part of the existence.

You left too soon
But here I am (your sophisticated version), suffering from this survival,
Feeling sorry, as I haven't seen myself so dead before,
Feeling sorry, because the wordly affairs doesn't fascinate me anymore.
Feeling sorry, as I'm being more hurtful to me than ever before.
Feeling sorry, as nothing more than death excites me more.


And all that these people can see is,
I'm doing well but not that great,
Still breathing but quite tired of putting efforts to change the fate.
But all I really do is,
I wake myself up
Just to suffer from withdrawal symptoms
And then I feel pity for myself
And wish for the final symptom to happen.
So, all I really want is,
To wait until the final symptom happen,
To collapse under this unbearable weight of pain.

-

I wonder how foolishly you choose to risk your heart twice,
Sometimes more than this count.
And just when everything tend to fall apart and seem to shatter
You blame someone for your heart's fragility,
You blame someone for not loving you for a longer time.
And you say, you are not at fault,
But only you know you had so much of faith in it and so you couldn't resist the temptation to fall for this downfall.
Tell me, how you are not suppose to be blamed for your own actions when you were the one who had let yourself in not for the sake of transitory love but for the sake of everlasting warmth?
How can someone else be held responsible for your beliefs, failures and actions?
How can someone else be accused for loving you for a little less time?
And how can someone else be accused for your hopes didn't meet?

-