Uprooted love

now that spooky impulses
fill this life,
every moment sways
in its own way
of disobeying time.
jumping into bed with a new face
of circumstances every night;
waking up with a grimace
leaving all that behind....
but never let
this meter run low.
the sweet taste
of kissing a new dream
never hesitates to show...
letting these fingers
slip into the clothes
of utopian outcomes...
searching for ecstasies
erotic on their own terms...
but still so rosy
letting me move without care
for the errors that i dare
leave behind for this planet.
come what may...
never wanna let go
of the way it feels now;
that my sails are free to blow,
that i have let
the dust of memories
get forgotten off
in this breeze,
can i hear the whisper
of the runways....

yeah,perhaps its that way
when every chase
ends up searching
for futility
tried so hard
to keep track of that mind
that drifted away
leaving behind this insanity
so difficult to erase

when every way through
ends in serrated edges
where reasoning is of little use
but perhaps still worth a try
burying myself
in this grave of complexities
inviting impulses of happiness
in trains of haluccinations
but still when
silent cemeteries
and boyhood smiles
fuse inconspicuously

i can still realise
the feeling of being
far from reality
before the final spark
leaves behind the darkness
of exhaustion....

crumpled pieces of paper
torn bits of life
turn stranger to those eyes
riddled by scissorhands of fate
blind conscience accepts defeat
at the hands of distraught.....
no more of that word
to kiss the air in these lips
destinations tried to change
but the captivity of these prison ships....
who could ever escape?
who cares if it is
marijuana or cocaine
once the snort finds its way
in the rhythm of these veins
...just life never changed its view
by peeping through coloured lens...

never needed a reason
to find a smile
perhaps the last one
to slither into
the folds of this skin
to seep into
eternal slumber...
silent feelings of
getting charred
thoughts turning autistic
wonder how could a glitter
still keep me calm
amidst this way
of getting burnt alive
slowly but unceasingly..
perhaps that glitter
was let free from her pupils
to let this moth
die a death of fantasy
trying to embrace
the very thorns
that pierced through its breath
what i leave behind
is not a bed of roses
but traces of sand
over emaciated memories
that will remind you of
the same last smile...