#100-wordshorts: 2. Space

This unhinged squatter slapped me so hard on my bony face, that my canine tooth got dislodged. 

I have been locked in this rotten, mouldy room for over twenty years. Or is it ten? Not even sure how I ended up here. But it still amazes me why no one, not even my fucking dog, bothered to look for me all this time. Whenever anyone enters this room, they either scream their lungs out or pretend they don't hear me scream.  

I am not sure how long I can take this. This room is going to be the end of me one day.

#100-wordshorts: 1. Chase

She jumped head first from our 50th-floor vacant apartment in her wedding gown with tears brimming in her scared eyes and trembling body. 

She finally agreed to take her life after listening to my persistent raspy whispers in her ears.  

Never in my wildest dreams, I had imagined that she would kill me brutally- right on the day we were supposed to get married. 

I mean - she was the love of my life; we were meant to be together. 

"I will chase you to death, darling," were my last words to her.

rant. ignore.

It's been almost over three weeks now that I'm unable to feel better. Usually it's waves crashing and receding... But this time it stayed for quite a bit. Trapped in my own stinking pile of thoughts... As much as am trying to feel normal and functional, I feel triggered by the smallest things now. Is triggered a loaded word? Dunno... I'm struggling to find a way out of this trap.. 

Haven't been able to talk properly with anyone in the past few days.. It's like, I almost forgot how to talk.. there are spaces and people that need me, my attention... I almost pretend that things are okay.. Although I have no energy whatsoever to go on. Talking about things is another thing altogether. 

I have started hating to see my reflection now. It's like I don't really know the person that I'm anymore and i don't like what I see. Not that I have liked it before. It's like meeting a stranger instead of your own reflection in the mirror. sometimes i feel safe to go dark. people are so consumed in their own lives and solving their 99 problems one day at a time, you just do not appear into their minds. 

How can i find a way out of this chaotic mind of mine? Should I give it all up so that my mind is finally at ease? My family history tells me that two people died of suicide when they were in their 30s. Will I be the next? 

moonflower

he used to call me his moonflower

'you'll bloom in the dark'

were his last words to me 

i visit his grave every night with moonflowers,

wearing white wedding gown and pearls he'd gifted me

on some days, he visits me from hell

on some days, in my sleep, his icy hands strangle me

on some days, he lures me to death

on some days, his pale black shadow kisses me 

'come home, my love,' he says, as he tries to kill me 

yet, i visit his grave every night with moonflowers,

wearing white wedding gown and pearls he'd gifted me

tic-tac-toe

TW: death, morbid poem whatever

I carved a swift ‘X’ on her arms 

with a razor sharp steak knife

‘tic tac toe - our favourite game’ 

I whispered lovingly to my drugged wife

She squirmed, she swayed

I slit her veins, again  

hoping to see the light 

from her eyes fade 

she smiled, though, 

and whispered raspily

‘I’ll always love you &

I’m here to stay’  

Her struggling body swam in a 

pool of crimson red 

Her soul gradually treaded towards 

the fiery doors of hell 

As I now lay besides her,

relieved now that she’s dead

I suddenly felt overwhelmed 

with pangs of grief and dread

Her icy-cold fingers 

tightly held mine

not wanting to let go 

even in death

she now laughed hysterically

taking her final raspy breaths

her sharp nails carved 

a huge ‘O’ on my arms

cutting through my veins, i bled

Scared and bewildered, i fled 

‘My love, the game has just begun,’ 

crawling behind me now, she said

melancholia

 if you look close enough

you'll see a haunting void

my eyes hold, shrouding 

the embers of my dying soul

my mind trapped in 

deafening chambers of chaos 

would only combust in flames 

if you caress it a little

they call me 'melancholia'

for living in the past and writing down my pain

but will the darkness within me go away

if i start calling myself a sunflower?

white noise

sitting by the sea, 

i wonder what it'd be 

to drown with huge rocks 

tied to your legs 

that lead you down into 

the dark abyss of nothingness... 

won't it feel the same 

as carrying the burden 

of your past with you?

if you don't know how to swim, 

won't drowning be an ideal way 

to end all the pain?

will the water that rises up my nose 

and blocks my breathing, be kind enough to 

knock me unconscious or 

will I kick my legs and 

wave my arms frantically 

and struggle to breathe? 

will i take that effort 

at all to survive? or 

will i surrender my body 

to the force of water? 

is my life worth being saved? 

they say  deep underwaters 

isolate you from the background noise 

can it also isolate me 

from the incessant white noise of my past 

that is plaguing my mind and my present? 

will it calm the chaos that i carry within?

there is only one way to find out...            

[Here's me, starting the new year on a morbid note :P]