Woes of Adolescence

One moment I’m smiling,

The next I run and hide.

For a while now,

It’s been a roller coaster ride.

Trust comes easily,

And so does affection.

Followed by betrayal,

And a wounded heart.

I feel the weight of the world,

As it comes crashing down.

On my feeble shoulders,

Made heavy by bitter words.

© Abirami

War

Heroes speak of battle scars,

Knives and bullets that seared their skin,

The blood they spilled,

And the lives they lost.

Little do they know about

The wounds that words can cause.

They don’t know of all the haters

The cowards behind masks,

And the sordid whispers they wield.

Lately, the battlegrounds have shifted

And wars are camouflaged in civilisation.

© Abirami

Obsessed 

To all the writers out there:

It’s not real unless it’s obsessive.

We all dream. But, you don’t deserve it unless every minute of your life is somehow a journey towards it.

We all love. But you don’t belong together unless you share a passion that drives you insane.

You can write pretty words, think easy thoughts. It might even please the crowd. But you’re not really writing unless every word you write is a window to your soul. The truth is ugly. It doesn’t rhyme. Sometimes it doesn’t even make sense. But the moment you stop caring what others think, you will discover yourself. Maybe they’ll like it, maybe they won’t. At least, it will be real.

So darling, stay obsessed. Make every choice like there’s no consequence. Live every fucking moment like you’re about to breathe your last breath.

– The Obsessive Writer

13 Reasons Why – Hannah Baker’s Poem

This show seems to be a controversy magnet on the internet. I’m not really interested in that part of it. I enjoyed the twists and turns, the cinematic effect was all too good. The message the show sends I do not entirely agree with. But there is something incredibly amazing that has come out of this show, and that is this poem. In the story, Hannah Baker recites it at her poetry club’s gathering. And it’s simply amazing. If you haven’t already read it, please do now. It’s an incredible piece of poetry. 
Even if you haven’t watched the show and you have no clue what I’m talking about, you will still be able to appreciate it. Here it goes: 

Hannah Baker’s Poem

Today I am wearing lacy black underwear

For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them.


And underneath that?

I am absolutely naked.

And I’ve got skin. Miles and miles of skin;

I’ve got skin to cover all my thoughts

like saran wrap that you can see through

to what leftovers are inside from the night before.

And despite what you might think, my skin is not rough; nor is it bullet proof.

My skin is soft, and smooth, and easily scarred.

But that doesn’t matter, right?

You don’t care about how soft my skin is.

You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark.

But what if all they do is crack open windows?

So I can see lightening through the clouds.

What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb for a taste of fresher air?

What if all they reach for is a notebook or a hand to hold?

But that’s not the story you want.

You are licking your lips and baring your teeth.

Just once I would like to be the direction someone else is going.

I don’t need to be the water in the well.

I don’t need to be the well.

But I’d like to not be the ground anymore.

I’d like to not be the thing people dig their hands in anymore.

Some girls know all the lyrics to each other’s songs.

They find harmonies in their laughter.

Their linked elbows echo in tune.

What if I can’t hum on key?

What if my melodies are the ones nobody hears?

Some people can recognize a tree,

A front yard, and know they’ve made it home.

How many circles can I walk in before I give up looking?

How long before I’m lost for good.

It must be possible to swim in the ocean of the one you love without drowning.

It must be possible to swim without becoming water yourself.

But I keep swallowing what I thought was air.

I keep finding stones tied to my feet.

– Written by Sarah Kay. 

Inside Out

I write away my sorrow

It is the only way I know.

Spilling ink thicker than blood.

Leaving behind words in place of scars. 

They said, Be the change and the world will follow.

I pretend to be reborn.

I tell myself that I am the change.

And the world did follow,

On Instagram to mock at my expense.

Some people see a few familiar faces and call it home.

What if I need to look at hearts and not faces?

When I look through those chunks of rock

Will I still be able to tell them apart?

This mind of mine colourfully black and white,

Scatters them into piles of two

They all judge me for my depth

Some look at my pockets and some my poetry. 

© Abirami

Unfinished Drafts

Voices fill up my drafts

Unfinished thoughts that haunt my soul.

They drift around in an ocean of their likeness

Waiting to be turned into masterpieces of perfection. 

Blinding flashes of joy and nerve wrecking misery,

All wedged into flimsy pieces of paper.

I stand in the eye of the hurricane.

My storm of endless musing,

The bittersweet catastrophe of my choosing. 

© Abirami 

Day and Night

A raging ball of fire slowly slips into the shadows. The darkness embraces the light, and gives birth to the night. The gold turns to silver, all the noises now merely a quiver. 

I hear nothing. 

I see no-one. 

I am relieved. 

Little by little the dark fades into lighter shades, the moon leaves to light the sun ablaze. The world comes to life and with it, it’s strife. 

I hear lies.

I see liars.

I am betrayed. 

© Abirami. 

The Girl in Love

You wield your cold, steely eyes like a deadly weapon.

Each stare is a merciless stab to the heart.

As I bleed out from the gaping wound,

Nobody comes to rescue the girl in love.

Every touch sends chills down my spine,

You suffocate me with your smouldering smile,

As I pant out of breath,

Nobody comes to rescue the girl in love.

You are my ocean of endless trust,

In you I drown, with complete submission.

As I enslave my heart to you,

Nobody comes to rescue the girl in love.

© Abirami

Why?

A tiny speck of dust, I, float in measureless oceans of space. All I am is a vacant stare amidst a seemingly sophisticated world where I will never belong. Lost in a trance in a crowd doing the happy dance. Will faking a smile earn me an offer to stay? I never think twice about the price I’ve had to pay. Yes there was once a time when I would have liked to be understood. The time when I gave up reality for delusion, endorsing a new attitude and a made up passion. You see, the safety of monotony can mask the missing happiness.

© Abirami

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