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Noctis Verses

“You never have to change anything you got up in the middle of the night to write.” ― Saul Bellow

[untitled]

Under the usual banter –
On one seemed to notice,
The swollen eyes and the smeared mascara
Smudge marks on the screen

The cheerful girl next door,
One with the hoodies and the cute shirts
Had a battlefield on her arms
Slashes and injection pores

All this was left unsaid
With no notices or appeals
Smirks and drooping grins
Way was weaved

(I was just under,
Pills and overdosed)

Nourish (?)

“Why do people have to be this lonely? What’s the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?”

― Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart

Lusted quiver

It had been many nights hence,
I’d been living –
Under the dim lit street lamps
Sleeping in a cardboard box
Sniffing – smell is as good as meal (?)
Being lost and now homeless
Running away –
It now seemed away not worth this
(Was it though?)

It’s been after years,
Years, and years of abuse
Of sexual profanity
By this person;
Apparently, supposed to shelter me –
Help me out – yet I ran
Was I right?
(It’s normal, I suppose – not)

Without anyone looking out anymore –
For lust or worse
This concrete my grave –
A box my coffin
(Dead drama?)
That’s at least better than being covered – white
Liquid not cloth
In frost not fingered touch

Die in hope – not a lusted quiver

Lusted

Love (?)

“When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.”
― Arrigo Boito

[Untitled]

It’d been some time;
Since – it has been the end of me

Blades,
They lay in the back of my dresser drawer –

Pills in the box of mint
Covered in sweat and blood with specks of coke

But – old habits die
Even if the hurt we see is not ours,
It’s an enslavement of sorts

Moonbow-ed

With a moon-bow on the backdrop
Under the star lit sky
Beneath the Acklemore tree,
Waiting for my beloved

As the dawn approaches,
Took my leave,
Trotted down the hill,
Home.

Home,
Far, far away.

As I walk this path;
In the shadows of tomorrow.

Reached a set of crossroads,
Undecided,

I stand – stare

Filling my wanderlust,
Or going home (?)

Run of conclusions,
Conclusively –
Filled my wanderlust

Loyal (?)

“I used to advertise my loyalty and I don’t believe there is a single person I loved that I didn’t eventually betray.”

― Albert Camus, The Fall

{Untitled}

In a world where there’s much happening
I got him tulips
Freshly plucked from his yard
Tied with a pretty string
Kept it on his grave

Since he’s gone
There’s not much that’s happening
Me, an old armchair and my brood
With wilted cigarettes and –
Under consumed but over needed pills

So,
Here I sit
And brood my remaining days – aloof
And bitter.

Au revoir

They were late –
By a lifetime and half
Non flowering blooms;
Lost dreams

My tears are over –
On dead pages and thoughtless hopes
Can I not pretend (?)
Just lay here instead – tired

Screamed and screamed and screamed;
If I skim past them now –
Probably, closure would find me
Insomnia and heroin jolts

(Scars and bones,
Laying a dead foundation –
Of another love, with a wilted rose)

I now lay bare –
Ready to be exploited
Used like the damned
Least’ that’s something (?)

This once I write
Under this milky sky
A poem – “Nothing”
With blood,
Stuck it on the counter besides the porch

(Au revoir)

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