Yet another float, yet another fall

Yet another float, yet another fall. I simmer helplessly. I sometimes lie frozen. I deny my senses and cringe on hearing their echoes. I sniff at my senselessnes, imposing them onto others. I find no retort when the mirror frowns at me. I grin at my failure as it walks over me. Joy breaks my skin and my bruises help me thaw.
I rejoice at the idea of humans piercing my nerves. My emotions are easily put at stake because I am an infamous maverick. I come as an astounding source of amusement because I spoke my ever seething mind. I am taken for a fence-sitter when I coolly hear them out.
I am an accomplished underdog in the world of heroes. The only kills I have made were the flies in my coffee. The only treasure I have savoured is the trust in my dishonest attempts. Bringing colours on, destroys my potrait. I wonder at the mood of almighty when he created me. I laugh at the idea of me keeping my sanity. I have lost all hopes of a hopeful mind. I have seen darkness strewned across my disfigured soul. Many roar at the idea of me having a heart. I am endured by them for a faceless cry.
I jump upon the opportunity of isolating my body and throwing it into the distance to encapsulate the mind it once bore. I retire in the morning on finding myself incapable of the fast buzzing world. I coil in the bed when the world laughs at me. I yell my throat out when nobody speaks to me. I weep the hell out of eyes when people find me nothing but a human.
I have learnt to selectively forget my fears and put up with the world the way it wants. I am convinced it cannot be better. I am happy my illusions are in their best.
I have had a personal enmity with bright mornings as they reveal what I have long tried to keep in hiding. I have feared my incessant faith in darkness but effortlessly travelled into its wild. I have maintained that I am a growling, screeching, whining creature of the old world; pining for a sip of an open soul in the congested streets; confused between “I” and the “You” of the world. Suffused in the liquidity of pain, I have been enchanted by the dry face of the world at times. I am in an endless wait of the time I see some phenomenon to wait for. I am not really satisfied by the way my state has been but I have no more hunger for dynamism.


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