Category: Poetry

Waking up hastily
to flashing news
of humans failing
to save humanity;
watching from home
men in arms
wanting to protect
from impending revenge;
putting on clothes,
her favorite dress
and unlike her,
some sharp makeup,
thinking to herself
if today’s it,
she’d die pretty.

© seekingmypeace


I still remember distinctly
sleeping with my ears on alert,
knowing that you are out there
and in all kinds of danger.
I remember opening my door
ten times in the night
and breathing an inaudible sigh
in pin drop silence outside.
Each time, over and over again
I learned that I could feel
helplessness and relief,
together in the same breath.

© seekingmypeace

The main reason
I ever allowed myself
to love you
was knowing that
I could never hurt you,
never ever never ever.
But I did,
in my stupidity,
I broke your trust
and I made you regret
and now, how can I ever
look at myself in the mirror
and say
I deserved to love you?
I simply can’t.



There are gaps,
so many of them
that my mind is searching
for where they came from.
It places them constantly
to my failures,
to my passions
because it fails to believe
that one person,
that I never even had
to begin with,
can leave so many potholes
in this shadowy dump
I call my heart.

© seekingmypeace

Tough nights

I just need you and them
to stop invading my dreams.
I’d love to have you over,
even have the dinner ready
but they, they seep through
each of my wounds
and play around in the flesh
until blood pours out again;
I don’t know how much longer
can I keep losing blood
and patching up the old wounds,
how much longer can I
beg my demons to protect me
and not sleep, peacefully, again.

Randomness is my thing but when it comes to you, certainties are comforting. The ritual got broken today and I am as misplaced as a crayon between water colors, painting the sky, painting my world. © seekingmypeace

Dreams that wake me

The repercussions
of a disturbed sleep
are the dreams,
the ones you get
when you have woken once.
The thoughts that chase you
stay with you
and your dreams become
the alternate realities;
seeing your worst fears come true
and then waking up
with a sweaty forehead,
heart racing fast
is what my masochist heart
craves for ❤️

© seekingmypeace

As a person who is affected by very less things, I can’t do much when my mind and heart plot against me, except sit back and enjoy the horror show every morning.