Every night, cold hands touch my skin,
A breeze of loneliness, a shiver of betrayal makes me feel meek -
Tired and paranoid soul, running an average day, every week.
But her stained lipstick still left a mark of lost desires on my wrist.
Before, when I slept at night,
I thought of various ways to stand and fight, like a knight-
In a shining armour, for their country and their right.
But now, I merely get sleep,
My alarm has stopped playing it's exasperating beep,
The sleeping pills on the desk are left all open,
Hope they fade away just like the air does,
As my life, tries -
to go on and on.
Little do I fear damage now-
Because her stained lipstick is still on my wrist,
Reminding me, that life will always bring in a plot twist,
But she will never leave me, alone again.
Suicidal feelings are ridiculous.
Here's a few verses for you if you ever felt suicidal in life.
YOU ARE READING
Calcutta Calling
Poetry[FEATURED ON WATTPAD POETRY'S "HEART STAINS" LIST] In this book, you will find two things- • Poetry. • Broken Love. "Home is where the heart is" that's what we say when it comes to true peace and harmony. "The pain it flows, But do I notice? Do I e...
