So, now you crying apathy,
Let’s talk about your lost spine.

Your eyes were all healthy,
But couldn’t see the filthy design.

They trained you to spit venom,
And you thought fortunes will shine.

Your brothers just got butchered,
And to you, it was all benign.

Bro, you got reduced to a silly mob,
In illusion that it’s wartime.

Don’t you cry you fucking fool.!
Go with the flow and embrace decline.

-

Being jaded hinders
The appreciation
Of simple sincerity.

-

A False Hope

Countless nights with eyes so red and bright, under the starlit sky. I cannot dream, so instead my mind projects my most dreaded fortune before me.

Each night, insomnia disguises itself as an enchanted castle.
An enticing sight.
A fairy tale with its arms wide open, in sympathy.
A miraculous haven to take refuge from the barren corners of my tattered heart.

But upon entering, it's doors shut with chains and locks. A false hope. Its windows fade into mirrors that reflect who I really am. A foolish girl who does not realize that she is the cause of her own sufferings.

-

Being blasé--
Turning apathetic--
Doesn't do any good.
It potently expunges
The emotional depth,
Entailed;
In order to fabricate
Provocative oeuvres
Of poetry.

-

Ocean of Insanity

You see me as someone who expresses nothing but apathy.
A person of stone you seek to carve and sculpt to your own liking,
Thinking that I will not resist, and will succumb to your every wish.
But little do you know that every word you speak piles itself high, blistering my mind.

A time will come where it will eventually block the flow of my sanity, letting it pool and thicken like blood beyond the bounds of this bodily vessel, leaving me no choice but to get lost at sea, under a sky of darkness without the north star to guide me.

And when that time comes, my love, you shall paint the tainted walls of your heart with regret, and with the same maniacal colours honoured to you from the overflowing oceans of my insanity.

And as far as I know, for the rest of this wretched reality.

-

Your love cracked open the layers and layers of apathy that was about to turn into numbness.

-

Black was the night
that witnessed a
land being tied
around its throat,
blacker the mornings after
that witnessed throats
cheering for ties of
a promise to the land
being untied.

-

How can you be so
apathetic?
To the screams rupturing
the silence?
To the cries echoing
amidst the sun lit
valleys?

-

I was asked what 'hate' meant to me.
Hate, I believe is an outburst
of all the wrongs we may have suffered.

I believe that it 'shouldn't' come easily to
humans, because hate becomes 'a part of us'
when the repercussions of the wrongs
are immensely escalated- to a level that
our existence fails to absorb it.

If it absolutely has to come, we should see
to it that it gets channeled. And it shouldn't
be used where we just mean 'apathy'.
Hate takes away a lot from us.

-

a lot of effort we put in
just not to feel anything
but now I let loose and I
release all inessential guilt
today I set myself free
and today I'm allowing
myself to make a big deal
out of everything that
feels like a big deal to me

-