Skip to main content

insanely sane

loud noises silent screams
where is peace- so pristine
hidden rage-hidden tears
to express lack of means
 and so he hides under cover
of a blanket never sober
parents shouting at each others lungs out
he has no clue
what's it all about
and when the day silences
he hears a banging oh! so loud
bottles thrown
hatred grown
but this kid can only mourn
hiding beneath the cover
staying away from the trouble
cause he has enough shit on there
fat too much to care
for the outside world
so he closes his eyes
and makes make-believe
makes whit lies
as a shield from chaos
his face adrenaline rush
but he holds his hand tight
fist formed ready to fight
from this place grows his spite
to the world chaos wild
a trauma from birth, he holds his breath
destroyed family-self caged
so he just pretends it's all just staged
just to control his rage
red blood
blodshot eyes
dark pupil filled with cries
and in his mind, he wants to die
but he believes he has to fight
with his demon so he can see the light
and sort things out, be a knight
strong reason, stronger will.
no doubt inside
yet he feels
the pain, the stress and every drop of rain
no wonder he is seen as insane
still some know him he has grown
to be an insanely sane person

-Yakaa: Jujaan

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

memor....hallucination

that cute little butt of hers those beautifull brunette curls that flows across her face yeah the same one with button nose and her smile the one that goes all the way to her heart it was nothing but a lie oh why did i had to lie??? why did i had to break that promise i made her yeah i cried but tears stopped right before they reached my eyes i had a reason for ending it and she knew it every bit so well: even more than me that she could tell what i had to say hello miss cuddles! well you ain't there thats just my hallucination please don't stare at me i can't bare to see you go, where are you now??? nowhere but in my brain -yakaa: jujaa #felicity (i wrote this one some two years back. back then i was called eklo yatri. meanings the same it's just a matter of language. dedicated to felicity. she meant the world to me. n even though we have drifted apart i still hallucinate her voice)
3 comments
Read more

when a writer dies

A lot has been said  a lot had to be said that's what we do, we the word warriors that's what we do, we the hurt worriers that's at times all we have that's at times all we can slap others with, our mode of expression that's the skill we have chosen to hone after years and years of jolting down useless lines after days and months of thinking through times through times of worries and through times of stress word has been our last line of defense the things written but unspoken the lines written from the heart that is broken yes, that is the only thing we have at most times the only place where we can safely whine but there comes a time when all of it stops, There comes a time when the pen drops and that is what we consider our death when all that needs to be said has been said or when the last hope of hope has been laid to rest that's when we have lost interest not in our craft but in our lives that is when a writer truly dies and writers block is not the death ...
Post a Comment
Read more

lie

i act but that's all i got left to keep myself same from my own emotions, i don't want no help from anybody but i'm getting them from everybody but i feel no shame cause i haven't asked them from anyone and now i ain't got no home and my hearts turned into stone and after years of hone- ning my skills I've finally succeed in letting my head taking over my heart cause once broken and hurt heart only gives bad advice so we should only listen to it in trifle amount I've learned to ignore the sounds the voices in my head that speaks of hatred I've learned to lie so high that even the sky despises me, i like to hide the monster in me the one no one must ever see -yakaa: jujaa   
Post a Comment
Read more