COMFORT ZONE

i. The unsent text, quietly residing in your drafts. The one you send only in your daydreams.

ii. The smoke, wafting over your half-crippled lungs. The one which you promise to quit tomorrow, just not right away. So you give in to that one last drag, for the forty ninth time.

iii. The silence, created not by the lack of words, but the fear of judgement. The one which is lately your only resort.

iv. The person, who has now started getting the better of you. The one you can't stop going to, every single night.

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Things which don't make sense.

I. The clock, ticking, yet our time doesn't change.

II. Time, flowing, yet makes us go around in circles.

III. You, giving the same promises, only to go in vain.

IV. Me, knowing it's a hoax, yet believing them again.

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Over time,
The night will dawn
A new tomorrow, again
So don't cling on to the pain.

Over time,
The storm will recede
Sweeping the sorrows away-
Just make sure to survive today.

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I never knew when
The midnight sky
Engulfed the stars that shone

I never knew when
The darkest nights
Started to feel like home

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On some days
we rewind
to when we rejoiced a little more
and worried a little less

On some days
we run
away the mess
but mostly from ourselves

On some days
we stay
with the memories we forgot
amid all the fuss

But on most days
we mourn
of what has become of us

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As long as I have hope, I'll keep rowing.

But I'm afraid what might happen if the storm actually hits me.

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I need to not let the worldly pleasures get the better of me.
I should find my solace within me, not outside of me.

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someday
i'll break through the cages
and glide across
an empty sky
with not so empty dreams
and wings
strong enough to rise
above the rubble
of what would remain.

but, for now I'll stay,
mend my heart again.

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It's a satisfying yet slightly surreal feeling, looking back and knowing you're at a place you once wished to be. It may not seem as substantial now, but it's important to appreciate and hold on to it.
(caption..)

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i'd write you a poem
on a dainty paper
with sparkling colors
and decorated borders
to make sore words
less resounding

i'd write you a poem
about a meloncholic love
sweet but shattered
radiant but rough
always there
just never enough

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