I’m drifting off to death.
something yanks me away,
a brush of cold air passes against the shell of my ear,
there are shadowy figures all around,
i had been running from them all along.
they had been chasing me in the darkness. they have been
touching my neck,
creeping over me.
i can’t let myself loose against them.
i’ve come way too far.
the ground shuddered with the impact but i scrambled to my feet and
there’s camphor all over my feet.
the very camphor burning my heart.
will burning these demons give me enough light to walk through
darkness? or is it forever?
darkness came over me everytime i ripped myself off to complete
i fought a thousand battles for you.
i won a thousand battles for you.
but i lost one,
i lost the one with you.
the one with your demons;
the one where i ripped out every shred of my skin,
the one where yearned to be someone else,
the day i lost the battle,
the lost myself too.
my body is both a shelter and a warning both at once.
my death is my canvas and my favourite colour is you.
no, this is not a love poem
where i could weave you as the perfect man
with a bright smile
and dreamy eyes
how your skin shines when sun sets on your face
but i cannot
i cannot romanticise my scars
the cuts on my wrists
the way i flinch when you raise your strident voice;
how living in my body
feels like living in a crime scene.
how every word i write turns to ash
yours are not ears they need to reach.
but there’s still music inside of me,
love inside of me,
and voice more than enough,
for my words to reach the right ears.