Sapphirism

(TW: Self harm) When my nails rake over my thighs with masterful strokes of familiarity, leaving my lulled, curious mind to wonder, to anticipate, to count seconds until my skin turns pink, until the pink slowly bleeds into a slight red trickle, until the warm water pouring is too scalding for this sort of a thing, the tears finally stop. I will later reflect on how strange it is to stop the poison by administering more of it, but now I just take a deep breath and claw my way out of the bathroom, latching the door with a harsh screech. But my eyes, gleaming with satisfaction in the mirror, tell a different story. My shaking fingers hate myself, but I know I would do it again. Then the purple devious grin in the mirror dissipates, revealing a stark, bruised patch of skin. It’s gonna sting later , I taunt myself. Trim your nails, you fool. Photo by  Lisa  from  Pexels

I ripped apart the veil of happiness, Mirth’s a mirage in this loveless land. Leaked out my favourite songs, my fancy words Leaked out vitality Leaked out what made me me . Then looked for me in mirrors and photographs and lost people and changing seasons. Liquid sorrow creeps in at the worst times.   Please give me a flame, I need to unfreeze myself! There’s a catatonic state in my mind. But no words cut through this catastrophic silence. I try to draw one string but all I can hold is a tangled mass of yarn. Pricking myself with the needle, if only to feel something Wishing for somebody to pull me through this gray haze   Help me , I scream, But it ricochets off your walls. So I stand alone, always alone, Full of false insights. Full of belief that you hate me now Glancing at the door, waiting for you to go— Silently dreading— I’m so full of this silence. But I will translate your quiet to mean something scathing and never look at you ag

  curtains drawn, dark house winter snakes its way around the bridge we once frequented is covered in ice, crumbling down   the flowers that we grew now droop perished greens, grey stoop our friendship is unwound sunshine’s nowhere to be found   no silence roars like this am I not someone you miss? you bathe in lights of a disco but all I catch is a distant glow   frozen hearts pirouette in this white, sparkling cage the sadness is so profound I can’t see through the grey haze   straining strings stretched out will snap without a doubt spoiler: that’s how it went now you’re just a silhouette.   we were each others’ gold but now we’re recycled souls waiting for what the future holds it was sad to watch you go.   Photo by  Furknsaglam  from  Pexels

your world stopped the moment the doc said sorry blink once, blink twice,  wait, what did he say? the motionless face that stares at the heavens, eyes shut is the one that brought you up when you were down…   you’re reeling back in horror, what the fuck is this reality? what is going on? why isn’t he breathing at all? “daddy wake up, please! you promised you’d take me to Singapore when this pandemic got over,” you whisper brokenly a sinking feeling tells you he’s broken it as he’s breaking you now..   your mother, who taught you to be a quiet little child, is now screaming — the pain’s a foreign language. how does one begin to describe the wordless terror of keeping your face bereft of sindoor,  wearing white sarees,  no one to wipe these endless tears?   how does one cease to exist? how can one be breathing joy one moment and then be forever stolen by the stars? how does “he is a good man” turn into “he was ”? how could you do this to us?  

This is it —there’s no going back now. Tenth grade starts tomorrow. The Board year. The year of insurmountable pressure. The year when uncles and aunties will ask you nothing but padhai kaisi chal rahi hai? / Boards ki taiyaari thik hai na? at a freaking birthday party and you’ll force out a smile, saying haan ji, sab thik hai. Then they’ll begin that same lifeless story about how their son scored some good numbers in his tenth boards, then cracked NTSE, then scored well in a dozen other competitive exams, then topped in twelfth boards, then cracked JEE and blah blah blah. God, this is a fucking party—let me BREATHE! And you’ll wish you hadn’t given in to your mum’s chal beta kitna padhegi and just stayed at home, reading the fuck out of your stupid textbooks.  But none of it yet. Tenth grade starts tomorrow, after all. I have a couple of hours between today and tomorrow. Hopefully, I won’t dream of school tonight. Last night I had this extremely weird dream in which I was running t

threshold of crazy it's my event horizon will you not step in? [allow me to consume you] Photo by  Rachel Claire  from  Pexels

i was loud and fun. now: shining in my quiet niche, crooning about this pain. [you are at fault] Photo by  Oleg Magni  from  Pexels

document your thoughts running down the upper floor make them all immortal Photo by  Josh Sorenson  from  Pexels

write me a river  so i can drown in your world until we meet again Photo by  Isaac Taylor  from  Pexels

teary eyes straining yawns following every page nothing sinking in Photo by  Kulik Stepan  from  Pexels

writing just to write filling up the syllables what am i doing???

melt like a cough drop at all your goofy antics. you barely see me.

still, reinvention sneaks up to you on cat-feet. you can bloom again. [ :) ]

staring and laughing fun mindless activities now locked up apart

two vines intertwined in a brown breathless necklace both choking each other

what if i don't write all my thoughts will rot anyway water dying plants??? [no]

read me thoroughly not another toilet to flush cherish me forever Photo by Mark Cruzat from Pexels