EMOTIONAL INCONVENIENCES OVER EMOTIONAL CONSIDERATIONS
If my tears could fall on the death stairs of your garden,
The agonies in my anguish would fall within contours of catastrophe.
I write not because I am a prodigy,
I do this because no one actually gets me.
The agonies in my anguish would fall within contours of catastrophe.
I write not because I am a prodigy,
I do this because no one actually gets me.
I couldn't word this to humans around me,
Why I feel? How I feel? What I feel?
I don't even get this myself, genuinely,
I am incapable of naming the disease,
I am suffering from.
Why I feel? How I feel? What I feel?
I don't even get this myself, genuinely,
I am incapable of naming the disease,
I am suffering from.
My sickness has made me loose my mind,
Me tears get withered away.
But my heart wrenches the seclusion of my being and
continues to bleed
My throat cuts deep,
Severe nausea in my chest.
Me tears get withered away.
But my heart wrenches the seclusion of my being and
continues to bleed
My throat cuts deep,
Severe nausea in my chest.
We all are buried in our boxes that we call rooms
Clinging To the devices believing these are the solution of our solitude.
Till the hammer of isolation hits us in the head
And we find no meaning in this lonely sustenance left.
Till the hammer of isolation hits us in the head
And we find no meaning in this lonely sustenance left.
Silence haunts us, so does the clamour
Well wishers hurt us, so do the acquaintances
Life consumes us, so does the idea of death
Lover leaves us, so does our innate talent.
Feeling inserted in a circus that people have named life,
Trying to Die but too coward to attempt suicide,
Trying to live but too emotional to not feel grief and reluctantly smile
We just try to tolerate the mourning of our being
Like someone has snatched our genuine smiles
The desire to be celebrated, to be loved, to be remembered
Makes us mourn our blood and bones.
We laugh, we smile, we smirk,
trying to just hide away our longing for how long we want to yell about our wounds,
And then when we die one day, they say, and they keep on repeating
What a gentleman! What a gentlewomen!
And the doctor says, the person had no genuine sickness
He just passed away as it was his time
But no one talks about the bruises that he had kept hidden from everyone
Because the world would name them " Emotional inconveniences " Of his low self-esteem
As the world continues to be emotionally inconsiderate towards the left ,
Life consumes us, so does the idea of death
Lover leaves us, so does our innate talent.
Feeling inserted in a circus that people have named life,
Trying to Die but too coward to attempt suicide,
Trying to live but too emotional to not feel grief and reluctantly smile
We just try to tolerate the mourning of our being
Like someone has snatched our genuine smiles
The desire to be celebrated, to be loved, to be remembered
Makes us mourn our blood and bones.
We laugh, we smile, we smirk,
trying to just hide away our longing for how long we want to yell about our wounds,
And then when we die one day, they say, and they keep on repeating
What a gentleman! What a gentlewomen!
And the doctor says, the person had no genuine sickness
He just passed away as it was his time
But no one talks about the bruises that he had kept hidden from everyone
Because the world would name them " Emotional inconveniences " Of his low self-esteem
As the world continues to be emotionally inconsiderate towards the left ,
as life is an ingenuine Ponzi scheme,
that should better be never redeemed.
Leeza
Fabulous
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