Patchwork Heart

I've done it again 
Put my heart on the slab
Butcher knife in hand 
I didn't think that I could 
Though now I know that I can 
I clean my dirty lenses
A futile effort 
Because perhaps they're broken
And that's why I have no foresight
It doesn't matter though at the end
I'm just a silly man 
My heart I've failed to defend
Now it begins 
Stitching back together my patchwork heart
Soon it will be time again 
To put my heart on the slab
Butcher knife in someone else's hand

(c) Rahul Chidambaran 2015

Story of My Life

Do you feel the feeling sinking
Smiles that we wear for each other
Masks to tears that breakthrough
Is this how life must be?
Like they say, story of my life
To find that the perfect hand to fit my heart is one that can't
Am I doomed to loose my love always?
My heart unable to keep it's treasures
Not you too. Not this again.
Yet I must stand on principle.
Stand upon beliefs and standards set by me
Goals learnt from stories and songs
A fairytale that has no place here
Here the good guy doesn't win
Here I am riding in the rain yet again
Riding cold and wet and alone yet
Remind me once again what it means to exist.
For some reason this could be just as bad
For some reason I could turn out worse

Anybody

I exist in my stories
In these words I write
In the notes I play
On these lonely nights

Can you hear me?
The music in these lines
The silence in my sounds
Have you tried?

I miss the warmth
The safety in knowing
I am lost now
The cracks are growing

If you can hear me
Come back and shout
You can be anybody
That I am without

Tripping In The Dark

Spoil me for the world
Soiled now every word
All faces sporting masks
Falling graces slippery grasp

They moved away in my dark
Lights now on in empty room
Then and now dissonance stark
Swept up in witches' broom

Hunger grows for new game
The heart though not tame
Looking around for the start
Tripping In The Dark

Rant That Does Not Rhyme

I see where I went wrong
Looking from the outside in
The turning points being obvious
All for naught though!
I cannot rewind this
I cannot redo this
This is the end and that is all

Where do I go from here?
When do I feel okay?
Every waking inactive moment is torture
The mind does not stop thinking
It gets venomous and destructive
Seeking to poison and deteriorate only myself

All I am is cynicism
Pessimism with a side-dish of stupid hope
Starved optimism slow roasted on a stick
Looking down the dark staircase into hell
Choosing between walking down and being pushed
What does it matter anyways?
Either way, I am Fucked

Screw it.