Run

I ran short of words that I used to describe my life with.
I ran short of words that I used to define my life with.
I ran short of words that I used to relive love with.
I ran short of words that I used to drive away disgust with.
I wish I could paint a better portrait.
I wish I could hum a better melody.
I ran short of canvases and I ran short of notes.
I ran short of thoughts.
I ran short of euphoria.
I ran short of fatigue.
I ran short of myself.
I ran short of you.
I ran and I ran.
And I still couldn't run away from it.
So I had to run with it.
To come back to square one.
Or to reach the edge of the cliff.
I ran short of imagination.
I ran short of dreams.
I'll run and I'll run.
Till I run short of words
To write this verse with.

Beliefs

I grew up to believe that the person you care about the most could speak empty words to you. Beautiful statements sans future evidential backups.
That should make me sad.
But I also grew up to realise that I do the same. Say words and then much later, act just the opposite of what I preached.
Because when I said them, it was an idealism of realism.
And when I acted the opposite, it was something known to all of us as the heat of the moment. Which is real. Because it happened. But do I regret it? I regret it. That, coming from a person who does not regret anything. No, I do not regret anything.

How could I back out on my words? And so, I regret it.
Everything happens for a reason. Life is not a carefully scripted play. I need to stop being so harsh on myself. I can make mistakes. I'm only human.
And so, I don't regret it.

What matters more is what I think of it now. The way I acted was wrong. The idealism of realism is my pursuit of realism. The way, I think, reality should be. One step further towards living what you preach.

So who am I to judge somebody else's actions when I'm still learning to live?
Therefore, it doesn't make me sad.
All of us scrutinize someone else's actions, ready to pounce on when they slip, or noting down their mistakes just to get back at them later on. Even if the getting back at them thing is unintentional, you did scrutinize, didn't you? What was the need to? Where's the unconditional love?
Is love really, ever, unconditional? Or is it another idealism?
You may believe your love is unconditional. But do any of us live what we preach? Preachings are based on a set of beliefs. Your philosophies.
They change.
And then again, why question somebody else's way of living?
Or what they said? And why didn't they ever act like it?
You just want the answers that fit your circumstances. That are in accordance with Your philosophies.
But don't you ever try to impose your beliefs on others.
When you love someone, you respect their beliefs as a separate entity.
Why do you start searching for your own beliefs in theirs once you start getting comfortable with theirs? To set chaos? Because that's all that it does.
Chaos. In your head. In your lives.
And once chaos sets in, there is only one result: choking.
Then one of you decides to take the emergency exit. To save yourself.
Stop.
Everybody is allowed to slip and to trip. Everyone allows themselves.
And with the ones you love, you help them get up when they slip and trip instead of counting the number of times they did, with a How-could-you look or a frown.
Try that How-could-you look on the things you do. You'd go and hide in a cave.

It isn't that hard. If you can decide for yourself that what you did was wrong or right, so can the other person. Because they're in control of their lives like you are of yours. What they said affects you. But what they do affects them more. What people do sets into motion another set of actions in their lives leaving bigger consequences in their lives than they do in yours.
Because ultimately, your actions will be responsible for anything happening to you in your future.
What are future evidential backups anyway? Without the beautiful statements of the past, would you ever search for them? Those are just hypothetical.
And may be, come to think of it, those beautiful statements were just something in the heat of the moment.
Words are never empty.
We just decide their weight to suit our beliefs, which, bend and mend with time.

And now, when I'm no longer thinking of myself, yes I do believe I love unconditionally.

Battle On

"Change is the only thing that's constant" was what my high school teacher used to say.
And as much as I hate changes, this is one truth that I need to accept every once in a while and it's still so hard hitting that it never fails to surprise me.
Nope, it's more like shoving it down my throat. I literally swallow hard and hope it's not painful right in the mediastinum.

The battles in your head will die a slow death if you don't keep rekindling the fire. But then again, which is better? Blissful oblivion or Battling on? I'll never know. Because I keep battling forever for the blissful oblivion that, I guess, is hiding just around the corner. But, I fear that if I forget to honk my car, I'll get hit by another once I turn. I never take corners.

Now, change is something that has always seemed better after a good while has passed by. But sudden drops is not what I signed up for. And that is all I get. That is all you get. And slow change means slow death. But the worst impact is left by sudden ones- rot daily.
In your head.
Shove it away.
Think it back.
Shove it away.
Replay it.
Meet a dead end.
Helplessness.
Shove it away.

And let the hours pass by.
Then your mood changes.
Your thoughts change.
You change.

You change everyday.
Change to something else and change back to what you were hours or minutes ago.
And just be different again.
Entirely new.
A side you didn't know existed.

Isn't this beautiful?

Human brain can adapt.
It keeps contradicting itself.
Truths of the moment change with time.
I'm not the person I was a few days ago.
My thoughts change.
And right when a calm washes over me
And I'm at peace
Even if for a while
Even after avoiding corners
I know that this is what I'm battling for
For the rest of my time
And it's these few seconds
Which will help me get through
And over all of my mistakes
And I'll be just me, if not the best of me.
I'm not striving for the best, anyway.
I'm just striving hard to be me.
All the way through.

I'm here

Pride
On having learnt the art
Of keeping
No expectations
But unexpected sweet things
Don't excite me anymore
Don't make me happy
Don't make me feel anything
I feel nothing
Anymore
I can sense it
There will be embers
If I don't save our flames
But I can't save them
Without burning
And I don't burn
Anymore
I'm here
Not running away
And I hope
There won't be ice

Sleep

Can you show me not to care?
I've been told that life's not fair.
I'm a child with castles of sand
With rose tinted glasses
And timid hands
I cut my chest open wide
Tired heart and a bloodstained knife
Stabbing over and over again
Oblivious to ways that could lessen the pain
There's a clear blue summer sky
But I keep looking for ways to deny
Of every path to reach the fields
With violin strings and light green leaves
Wolves keep standing in my way
Hungry for the heart I cut out in a haze
Praying for preying upon me now
Planning out ways to pull me down
And lull me into deep sleep
Just to wake me up in need
And set my little desires ablaze
Then blow my sandcastles away
Only to make me run all scared
Of the monster to whom my soul was bared
I catch glimpses of it at times
Ghastly truth woven into lies
How easy is it for you to fake
In the lands of faith there's a quake
The child dies a slow death
While darkness creeps in stealth
Into the rivers of red
No love, just despair instead
All I want to do is sleep
Show me how not to bleed
How not to weep
How not to need
And not to care
And not to share
Or not to believe
Or not to grieve
Just show me how to sleep
All my scars are far too deep
To numb all the pain
Lying wide awake
Let me breathe with all my might
Let me cry and sleep all night.