In thaw of anxiety, for the shapeless shapes in my brain

I am consumed by fear

I breathe out smoke not air

I feel my acid reflux has gone way overwhelmed

my chest running

all too compressed 

I feel somewhere where my blood flows a bomb 

is blown

It blocks my airways

I’m bloody dehydrated

My mind’s so big full of riddles from someone else’s maze

I can’t touch; can’t fart

I think they would stare

at my greatest fear

freaking out in my brain.

trapped in a bread store pressed down

and suffocated.

He could rip me to bits, I’m his slave

weaker than a thread when pulled so be it

They said count to 100 sheep,

infinite questions my tongue wants to urinate

like a tapping of a pencil,

the sound of a fan, 

three clicks of your fingers,

it swirls and twirls me down to a hole

this is insane!

Locked in a box with a razor on my back

unmoved, disgruntled

the box with its wall less walls

I’d like to turn off my thoughts

could I make it that far?

to hold my platter of splatter green and hazy painting mind?

or

do you think i constantly do something wrong,

a visit to the doctor is fine?

 

 

Between meaningless and meaningful

Before the sun sets 

                I need to find you somewhere in between the mobilizing rays of the day and the paralyzing beam of nothingness.

But I can’t. I can’t. 

I can’t find you anywhere else but only in between the purest field of birds of paradise in a good soil and the dark blood drawn chariot of a cursed sky.

As the sun gradually sets in kindness, I can’t,  I can’t, I can’t see you around the swollen clouds of death and of irrelevance. 

It seems I haven’t laughed at the parody yet 

I can’t, I can’t bring myself to act upon the abundant noise of mutual futility 

Where fertility does not matter 

Where priority becomes not even the second best 

Where the choice to fill in the void is atrocious 

And I can’t,  I can’t meet you even within the exact rendezvous

Find me. Find me between meaningless and meaningful 

Whereby one is left to figure out the only ‘meaning’ in between. 

 

The only pessimism is to remain a pessimist

I am knocking down the concrete walls in the streets like fresh umbrella mushrooms,

Hitting hard the grand temples of your depressed mind

Pricking the waterless drops of tears in your soul-less eyes

And you tell me,

There is no beauty in family -abuse; raping daughters of sunrise, digging out family inheritance.

Absolutely No. There is no beauty in cruelty, in death in this world compiled in a black chapter book where there is only humans slaughtering men in abattoirs.

There is no beauty in seclusion, in indifference, in randomness even in the plenitude of human affairs.

No, there isn’t.

This world is a controlled HQ where us is kept within a panic room like a child with Asthma sustained merely by some allergy drops.

Life according to a neurotic mind is one remote control with a single click —– flushed out and doomed —– like an automatic toilet bowl invented in Japan or in Germany by another great scientist from the year 8080.

One day you’ll meet a tall, dark stranger ; a movie director ransacking deathbeds, digging deep to show NO beauty in a mother’s cry for her children’s dead bodies.

There is only enough limit in which the human mind can take the evil horrors of life.

So before we become more alienated…

Into the heart of darkness, let your eyes see the unsung childhood sailing away forever

Look deep into the pictures not of golden harvest and organic flush of wind but of war crimes, skin discoloration, the commercialized face-lift, nose jobs and tender oil suction, the poisonous bombing and the publicized hand-served of the UN tribe in a plate of dystopia.

Yes, you told me these words from the other worlds.

Yet as actors and bare performers on a stage with different acts and rotating backdrops, if you know,  the ‘cirque du soliel’ we are.

Go into the heart of things to witness how the world rattles one after the other as people scream in despair with a doggish mind unfollowing god -serving butterflies reinventing the color-wheel eight octaves higher.

As you perceive the Earth, human beings and life in general —

Searching for light with all the good beyond all evil in yourself and the cyclical mud-view that creeps into being,

With all these, you want me to figure it all out.

To see them in your light; I do.

Because we live in the same pig-pen fed of the same pig-sty.

Yes. You tell me everything.

But.

I can’t carry the same seed even if I’m the only one stupid, joke -immuned girl reduced to misunderstand the truth of life’s meaninglessness. 

You tell me, you have a much rancor towards life. 

Isn’t that unfortunate? 

To disqualify yourself of a single life with the way you regard life to be meaningless. 

Isn’t the one who contradicts it desires most of it?

If this is the ground where we lay the foundation, 

All must have committed suicide; —-

           removed of the vitality for life. 

Depression


The bright faces of people surprise me.


that woman sits on a chair facing the wall

Though hunger beats her stomach she doesn’t move

Her forehead touches the surface of the wall slowly banging as her lips babble some short sentences

Die! Die! Die!

Her room is a cage built with the specifications she wanted.

___________________________________________________________

surprises are dull.

 

 

Don’t just stand there

Don’t just stand there mystified

By the morning dew from last night’s

Plummeting string of rain.

Don’t just stand there doubting your own pain because it’s real and

No one is to blame.

The decision you made comes like the small plastic wrapper that remains afloat in canal waters even after it’s washed by rain.

Don’t just stand there praying to God to solve the chaos you’re in

Might as well assign them yourself and let Him rest from your sins.

Sins lie in wait in a bowl of dried apples and oranges aged by filthy wind and blasphemy. 

The house in yellow sulfur is filled with death it seems no one cared 

No plants and lights, windows cracked and broken, voices only echoed from lost people, the long chairs across the wine bar are empty, webby never cushiony.

Souls have housed in its darkness the place is haunted now you should leave. 

Don’t just stand there hoping it’s only a dream. That the stars you see beyond the hole of the kitchen roof are real. 

They’re not so don’t try to sew them like some puzzle pieces they are only meant 

To keep you and make you dark as well.

Dream a little dream of him somewhere clean and clear it’s not helpful when you’re under some evil spell.

Escape all you want but don’t mind the house’s tale you’re not a priestess in a book’s occult fair.

Think about your family their warm smiles and lovely gazes to fight against 

This monster craze. 

Don’t just stand there I don’t want you there 

Move your fingers, blink your eyes and shout all you can 

Wake up from the nightmare and leave depression that’s all there is to say.