u/Quark-n-Quill

Behind closed doors,
the tears and screams.
Duskworn nights
spent battling your dreams.

People you know turning on you,
cornered by blank faces with
menacing cackles and smiles so fake,
covered with a sheen of sweat
as you jolt awake...

Go on, look into the mirror,
take a peek at who you’ve cremated.
Is that even you?!
Look at the monster they’ve created.

Remember?
Tears streaming down,
as you tried and tried.
It was only a matter of time though,
before you shrivelled up and died...

You’re a soulless body,
risen from the dead,

People inch away from you, afraid.
But who’s gonna tell them?

Monsters aren’t born,
they’re made.

Why do I write ?
I have often mused over this..
In the tranquil moonlit night
with my pencil poised in hand,

Sitting and rhyming away
bottling the world
between these lines...

watching my mind
slowly empty out its thoughts
all its pent-up emotions
spilling out onto the blank page...

Watching my notionettes finally become tangible......

They say those who write they yield weapons in between their fingers. But my pen?
It's anything but.

My pen,
is a band-aid
for all the cracks in my heart.

My pen
is the stitch
holding me from falling apart.

My pen
is the balm
for all the wounds I got
from crushed expectations

My pen
is the Ibuprofen
for when It hurts a lot.

My pen
is the camera
that captures nature
between these lines

My pen
is the magic dust I sprinkle
upon these dreams of mine.

My pen,
is my therapist
coaxing me into letting it go

My pen,
is a little brooke
and I go along its flow.

My pen is a lot of things...But a weapon?
That...My pen cannot be.
But I whisper to it
and it inks down my reverie.....

I sit and i watch

The azure expanse of the sky,
The heaven’s limitless canvas
with weightless clouds languidly floating by
and the occasional bird taking flight...

I sit and I watch

The afternoon radiance,
giving the fluffs a silver lining
and the swaying tree tops, that dance
to the wind’s cozy whistling and whining.

I sit and I watch

The sunbeams filtering filtering through sieves
like sparkling twinkling confetti
sprinkling down from the leaves
garnishing the panaromic serenity

I sit and I watch

Letting the halcyon wash over me
The hasty world slowly comes to a hault
as I slip into nature’s soothing symphony……

The vivid veracious fabric
sat staring at me from the couch,
I bunched it up and stuffed it away
into the very depths of my closet..

I tried on a much prettier number.
It didn’t feel like me..but it looked good.
I stepped out, quite confidently
with a smile plastered on my face,

even as I felt the vivid veracity
burn a hole through my back….

Why do you always do this?!

The brain lashed out at the poor heart.

Why do you always have to go and give so much ??

if you're expecting the same back,

You already know there's nothing as such.

Stop wearing your emotions on your sleeves, heart.

Your flimsy fragility...

Stop it ! Stop shredding us apart.

Into pieces and pieces and pieces...

You really don't get it, do you?

The heart spoke, in tears and frayed.

Oh, my dear wonderbox, if only you knew...

The mystique of being able to feel, it said.

The hush between heartbeats,

or the glimmer of hope,

the thread of longing,

or the gleeful glow.

Oh, to feel the rise and dip, the roller coaster of emotions.

Does logic ever let you dunk your toe in this reverie ?

I think you're the one missing out on the constellation...

Yes, I feel. I break. Maybe I am naive.

Yes, I give way too much.

But it's cuz of me that you're alive !

What would life even be ??

without emotions to garnish it? to spice it up?

You think your logic will ever let you see

the tides and colors that light life up?

The heart said all this,

as it put band-aids on its cracks.

Well, see you the next day, mate...

The brain had nothing to say back.....

I stare at her,
She smiles at people passing by,
Hoping to make their day a tad bit better.
Greeting and showering compliments..

I stare at her,
Helping people anyway she can,
Even when no one asked her to..
She hopes it will make them like her.

I stare at her,
Putting everyone else before her,
Choosing others over herself,
Trying to make them feel seen…

I stare at her,
Healing others with the words she needed to hear,
Hoping, maybe someone will put her first too,
Hoping, maybe someone will see her.

I stare at her,
The hope clearly fading away,
Maybe she expects too much from this world…

Sighing, she realises
no one’s going to love her the way she loves…

She’s tired of feeling ignored, cast aside…
She wished she had someone like her.

She catches me staring,
She smiles at me,
The smile doesn’t reach her eyes anymore….

The soft drizzle of rain,
Bouncing off as drops hit the moonlit ground.
The garrulous gurgle of the drain,
as it hungrily sucks the drops down.

The hammering of needle-sharp rain,
Pelting stone-hard drops at earthlings
Lashing out with no refrain..
Screaming clouds and snarling winds.

The forlorn and moon-drunk rain,
As yearning drops fade into the ground
Wistful clouds unstitch their pain,
Woes, on tear-stained windows, left to be found.

The rain dumped the whispers it bore,
Emptying its pockets of chagrin and sorrow.

Leaving in its wake the faint trace of petrichor…

I wonder what does moonlight smell like..

Does it smell like the rich flavour
of the dark chocolate I like off my fingers at midnight ?
Or does it smell like the mangoes I savour ?
Devouring little pieces of heaven and delight..

Does it smell like the pages of a new book ?
One you just can’t put down, it has you hooked.
Or does it smell like the song u have on full blast ?
Vibing and bobbing your head to the beat
swaying to the rhythm, you want this to last.

I wonder what does moonlight smell like

Does it smell like the flirty breeze
that tangos in through your window ?
dancing in the dark with the swaying trees,
Teasing your curtains and tickling your shadow.

Or does it smell like the light drizzle of rain ?
Pittering and pattering away at midnight,
that one squawking bird, and a singing cricket,
Complete with a musty smell and a flickering light.

Is that what the moonlight smells like ?