#thisisafreens

These falling pieces, slowly withering away,

A process, long overdue,

Perhaps a rebirth, lies in the waiting,

For now, this decay, gradual fading,

Shards that were held together,

Fall off as demolition keeps on the roll,

A philosophical existence,

On the verge of extinction,

But perhaps the will is still there,

To withstand, the storms,

Which have begun to wage,

Against what was a mere human once,

Now a daunting phenomenon of philosophy.

And frosted leaves that wither cold

Beauty in its extreme forms life

And nature's graces firmly hold

Just as sunshine builds and blesses

So do hail and rain and sand storms

Falter one wills at times and falls -

Every season will be wild and tame

As no two souls are such the same

So does a breath breathe deeper

faster or warmer or colder another

Crying doesn’t make you weak,

Listening to yourself doesn’t make you selfish,

Loving yourself doesn’t make you a narcissist,

Laughing your heart out doesn’t make you look weird,

Singing along to songs while walking doesn’t make you look like a hippie,

Cutting out the wrong people from your life shouldn’t make you feel deserted,

Doing what you feel is right isn’t making the wrong decision,

Burning bridges that connect you to places you want to forget isn’t called being detached,

Sharing your feelings doesn’t make you vulnerable,

Being you doesn’t mean anything to anyone but means more to you,

If you do something for yourself,

It is for yourself,

No explanations are needed to be given.

When you are the only one awake in the room, hearing your own breath rise and fall like wavering winds; When peaceful sleep becomes too much to wish for, And you try to muffle your worries under the pillow; When you feel time vanish as the night grows old, And each beat of your heart is a count down to doom; You realise that sleepless nights are just a part of the price you've paid for your sins.

It was still dark. Did I wake again? I tried to look at the clock. Not working but I heard the ticking.

I looked at the ceiling and thought that maybe I could fall asleep again. I closed my eyes for a couple of ticks.

I blinked. I could have search the room but no. My eyes were already fixated on something.

The woman in my dreams was lying beautifully at the ceiling, disregarding gravity once again.

Her cloak was widely spread, like calm waters at night, covering the ceiling with a dark crimson fabric.

Like before, she has no eyes, or maybe it was there. Her mouth wet and grimed 

Teeth glistening from the moonlight. Tongue playing them.

Gradually, her saliva got into my cheeks, some in my mouth. Slimy, sticky, sour, spoiled.

She laughed. No, it was shrieking. Do banshees shriek? It took her too long before she stopped.

Then stared at me. But with no eyes? Maybe it was just too dark, absorbing all the light.

Now reaching me with her arms, too long to be called arms. Even so, her bony arms looked like they were about to crumble

She giggled because I am scared. Scared that this might not end. That she knows. Because I couldn’t close my eyes and I had to see her. That she knew.

Her arms were still reaching me but it wasn't long enough even though it was already too long to be called arms. She was taking her time.

I blinked. Again. I said blinked but it felt like my eyes were closed for hours. This time her body was suddenly distorted. Her limbs are twisted. Bones are out. Still, she smiled, like it was a good thing, bones baring.

I want this to end but I don't know how to cease it.

I’m sweating marbles. My body, shaking.

I had the urge to blink but I didn’t. I was afraid that if I did, she would kiss me.

I glanced at the ticking clock. Time did not pass. I looked up again but now she's gone.