My pain

My pain was so great, it filled me whole,
My pain was so strong, I could feel nothing more.
My pain made me feel so blue,
It also made me need you.

Now, I am finally free,
But without my pain, I don’t feel like me.
It consumed me, I felt possessed.
But without my pain I feel distressed.

I don’t need it but I want it.
Now I feel so incomplete without it.
My pain made me feel real,
Its strange, yeah and that’s my fear.
Without it am I even here?

Its not supposed to be this day,
This isn’t how I want to spend my days,
Not this gloomy, not this sad;
I should not want this so bad.

Before, the pain made me numb,
Now this feeling makes me dumb:
I can’t speak, its like I’m missing the only thing I ever owned..

Why do I have to feel this way?
Is this really how I’m made?
I have to wonder, am I sane?
Why do I want this pain again?

Oh hell! I just realised, this entire poem is a lie.
I still have the pain, its here all right.
Never left, not even a night.

I remember now, its coming to me,
All my hurt, all my misery.
The many pillows with tears I’ve stained,
The times I stood alone in the rain.

Wait, I remember being happy
But that was just temporary.
What I could have had is lost,
But I still had to pay the cost.

Its like a scar that won’t go away,
It’ll last till my dying day.
I won’t even try to hide,
The mark of what keeps me alive.

Please don’t try to save me.
This pain is eternal—I want it to be.

Defeated

I tried my best, hard enough, to fell me drain sweat and blood;
Best turned worst, effort to nothing, joy to tears, left with nothing.
I worked all day either mist or rain, squeezed my feelings, enjoyed the pain.
Thought it worked, happiness prevailed, but then you cried–or should I say it hailed
Fear of failing entered my body, my mind started shredding, my head started throbbing,
“Thanks for trying” you said, “but its just not good enough”. I held back my tears, tried to look tough.
In the end, it didn’t even matter, my effort was torn to bits and tatters;
Lesson in the end, no matter how I try, I will always be defeated. Why do I even try? 

Names on a train

Have you ever written your name somewhere?

On this train, we mark our names, even though we’ll come again,
Because we’re still young and do not know, what will happen as we grow old.
Will we stay together or will we fight? Will we make it or will one of us die?
Will we come back on our anniversary? To travel the same as when we would meet.
Or will we come back, separate and sore, bitter and wishing we had done more?
Will they paint this place or scratch out our names or will our families find it and make us ‘behave’?
What if we come back with someone else, trying to explain why we’re such a mess?
Or just to destroy this memory, make it a joke to our next story?
What if this could remind me someday, that things used to be okay..
Or will it just show how naive I’ve been, always holding onto something?

I might forget or even hate, that I once wrote our names on a train.

The Curtain Falls

I remember how I was dying for thirst when the curtain first arose.
Spot light on us both, started with a bow, traditionally foes but later somehow;
You wanted me near, I couldn’t hold back, that was my part so I had to enact.
Romance blossomed, the viewers looked with awe, we danced around the stage, you took me in your arms.
We connected but had to leave the scene; I waited patiently for you, on the other side of the screen.
But when I came back on stage, you weren’t alone; there was someone else, the star of the show.
The stage turned black, clothes turned black, nearly forgot my lines, it was the final act.
The heroin wasn’t me, it was the other girl, I was just the distraction, another fool in this world.
Finally it’s over, roses at her feet, make-up perfectly intact but mascara on my cheeks.
Too bad I got carried away, I realise now it was just a play.
Time to go home, clean up and pray cause tomorrow I have to act it all over again.