Leakage

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Colors leaking outside of me, a once active
imagination now unable to see and create
tales as lively as before, I now live inside
a dying world with a dried up source
never knowing when it will replenish
or should I just accept that soon every
story inside of me will somehow perish?


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Lost Writings | 12 – Mornings Turned To Mourning

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MORNINGS TURNED TO MOURNING

The ray of the sun’s light is not too bright to pass through this thick fabric curtain and the morning comes but it does not shine in the other side of the window. Until the sun has to set, the bed is still yet to be vacated. Awake through the night and through the dawn with no light, just a debilitated psyche to perceive the misty surroundings— searching for a dash of light and pulling all the threads of this thick fabric. Restless mind through the dark, not even a glint came through out of all the sunrises and mornings. Supposed hopeful journeys and new beginnings led to wasted life and daily mourning.


I wrote a bunch of poetry back in 2017, it was all over the place. So, I finally retrieved it from my old broken laptop and some were from my old journal pages that I may have forgotten about.


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Open Wounds

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The scars from the past
are still covered up with plasters,
and time didn’t do its job to heal
the wound from the disasters
that I had hoped would disappear
but it’s a chip on my shoulders
I can’t brush off, and its claws cling.
Stitches are open and the pain lingers.


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Left Behind

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I was always the first one in line,
for a prize I didn’t even need to try
Now, I’m suddenly left behind.
I’m back in the corner of a room
trying to keep my head down
and rushing to get out soon,
watching the hands of the clock
slowly turn to the time I can leave
it feels like years, I feel so stuck.
I often go back to these moments,
the glory days of my care free life,
the memories and what it all meant
at the time, it was everything to me.
Now, I’m sitting back in this chair
thinking maybe this is all I’ll ever be.


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The Moment I Start To Fall

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It starts off lying in bed and letting out a big sigh like you just had an exhausting day then your eyes start to fixate on your ceiling like your whole life is written on it and you’re trying to read it but the words are scrambled. You’re trying to solve it and you realize that your eyes are glued to the ceiling or the ceiling is just getting closer to you, that’s the moment you realized that the ceiling collapsed and fallen on top of you, and while you’re also falling into this big black hole at the same time– you’re unable to move. You’re falling with tons of bricks on you, waiting for someone to either catch you or get the rocks off of you. But until then you just keep on falling and falling with no ground to fall onto.


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