Death

The blood stained hands

After he ran his fingers through the hairs

His head is now leaking his secret

Death is finally taking up its shape

“All that pain has nowhere to stay

The time is running out

It’s time to bid farewell”

Death said to him as he looked into the mirror

About- This poem was written on May 28, 2026; 9:46am and is part of "Valleys to Jump Into: The Trauma Chapter". 

My Place

They all have a place to be

To be at school, home

College or in office

But I have nowhere to be

Every place is haunted by someone’s crimes

That tells me to run upwards on a hill

And just jump off in a valley

Death is the only place for me to be

About- This poem was written on June 28, 2025; 10:54am and is part of "Valleys to Jump Into: The Trauma Chapter". 

Haunted House

I know this house where I have grown up

I also know I will be buried deep into the ground

If the stream of truth every leaked into my real world

My existence will suddenly be a sin to them

I know I ‘m not the ideal child

I have been fucked over and over many times

Fate has just decided to push me to cliff

So I just want this wait to be over soon

About- This poem was written on April 21, 2026; 8:31pm and is part of "Valleys to Jump Into: The Trauma Chapter".  

The Game

Her anger never reflect violence to me

She was always trying to do what is best for me

Now everything has changed ever since fate took her away

Everybody has turned cold towards me

They first trap you in an emotional game

Telling others they knows he is suffering

Then going ahead to hit at my nerve

To crucify me for their own ego

About- This poem was written on April 21, 2026; 8:34pm and is part of "Valleys to Jump Into: The Trauma Chapter". 

Waiting to Disappear

He goes inside his room

Whenever his parents fought

Father yelling slurs at his mother

Threatening to even kill her

His sister then locks up the room

And play him his favorite song

In wait for the stars to disappear

So they could disappear in morning with their mother

About- This poem was written on January 26, 2026; 8:26pm and is part of "Valleys to Jump Into: The Trauma Chapter".  

Not Their Child

I’m being crushed in my own house

When suddenly they realise I’m not the child they wanted

When they realised I have failed academically

I’m suddenly a child who brought shame

They first start the argument

No one wants to hear my truth

I want to jump in a valley

And put this case to rest

About- This poem was written on April 21, 2026; 8:29pm and is part of "Valleys to Jump Into: The Trauma Chapter". 

Decaying Heart

Your heart will decay under the gravity of your weight

Those roots needs to be burnt down to ashes

Their words are like bullets piercing through the heart

Fly away or it will restrict your humanity

About- This poem was written on April 28, 2026; 5:05am and is part of "Valleys to Jump Into: The Trauma Chapter".  

The One Who Did It

His father’s brutality saw no limits

In skin burning days when Sun is blazing over head

He scolds and says “you’re the biggest failure of my life”

His father’s brutality saw no limits

In nights that are cold as the winter

He punished him for things he never did

His father’s brutality saw no limits

Made him believe he is the one in wrong

When it was father who stained the moon

About- This poem was written on June 20, 2025; 8:27pm and is part of "Valleys to Jump Into: The Trauma Chapter".

Death in November

i was dragged to the sea shore

where i still dance with your ghost

hoping that maybe the ship's rudder will turn back

and out of the fog, you will mark your return

haunting this scene is-

"where waves are crashing onto shore,

there is weed covered in snow

and fog drip from leaves, like it's arrival of my death"

Lighthouse

your ocean current speaks to me every midnight

when i'm on the waters, searching without a party

they echoes you have long departed from my periphery

and my hands would feel shorter even if i were to get any closer

early november the cold marks its brutal return

in the shape of your name and spells the word 'F'

"what am i without you?" i ponder this question

while looking for you from lighthouse surrounded by storm

Porch

i sit by the porch

watching the ghosts f;y around

ivy hanging from the roof

and sun obscured by the fog

i sit by the porch

mourning all my losses-

'of dreams, people and memories',

that holds a knife on my throat

i sit by the porch

watching the ghosts fly around

i'm chained to a chair and

being forced to cry every november

Wild Currents

you came out of the fog in January

and left after wrecking havoc in november

your face like any unpredictable storm

sometimes gray, sometimes pink at height of your love

my face was gray, it still is

but your arrival was like a flicker on a stormy sea

providing me enough space to open up my wings

only for me to be drowned by your currents

Happiness

This poem is a follow-up of one of my previous poems titled "Happiness in Goodbye", where i tried to reflect upon the idea of moving on in a good light but completely ignored the fact that for a lonesome person like me, this is certainly not the case. I was inspired to write this poem, while i was going through my diary and stumbled upon a previous entry by me. This poem picks up where the previous one left. It is about the return of that person but despite what hopes this poet had, everything resulted in chaos. 

was there ever happiness in goodbye?

you reappeared in that one november night

when i greeted you with tears

and their stains on your letter

i tried to wave at your ship

and smile with drought hit eyes

but rain came back

and swept away all walls i had built

Loud Thoughts

you probably think my poems are about you

maybe they are-

but about the version i once knew

that had yet not learn how to betray someone

you probably think my infidelity caused you hurt

but what is there to mourn when you were never present?

and the one i love now can't even read the signs

in the end i'm on a same boat, no matter which shores i decide

there were no longer sunny days

the clouds had covered my sense of clarity

november's fog was getting too strong

that i drowned and you never again found me

The Promised November

the promised november never arrived

it's still the same covered in fog

and smoke from the old world

when my life was at crossroad

november's blood moon

and stars told a different story of my fate

i die every night and think about it

when my god promised to love me more

This poem is connected to another poem of mine titled "November 8 and Eclipse". In that poem i talk about two events happening on same date. On one date, somebody went to heaven and on same date something good was promised, maybe a conversation related to eclipse. Again, it is very deep and has connection to astronomy. But before the promised november could arrive, the new connection this character had found with somebody faded away or you can say that the savior decided to leave. 

In the Colour of November: A Poetry Series

Maybe this time we will part ways. who knows? Writing is a whole different thing from publishing. Sometimes you write, sometimes you share what you wrote and sometimes you just burn whatever you wrote. This new poetry series falls in the second category as i wrote it while telling my mind that it's the last chapter that i must put out and add a period in the story. I wrote these because they were meant to be shared as a way to let the ink of my pen fly away in form of texts on internet web pages because that way i'll be free and i won't have to keep these with me. This new and possibly final piece of work by me is called "In the Colour of November". 

The reason i chose to call it that was a small idea that i had based on a short film script i wrote called "The Art Room" but at that time, the title sounded a bit cringe. So i came up with something else and this is what that title was. As i kept digging in my dairy entries, i came across a common pattern that is the month of november lore. It's more like a curse and i'm nothing but scared every time November comes around. You never know what might happen to you next. This month holds the memories of a loved one who died, a friend who betrayed me, a new beginning and its ending (it was fleeting), memories of getting deserted and a lot more than what i can put into words. This month makes me suffer from melancholic fever and everything appears to be obscured by fog. In conclusion, its color is haunting not because of the fog and cold but because of the painful memories it carries.

The poems in this series are as follows:

Main Theme Poem- In the Colour of November: The Prologue

• The Promised November
• Skeleton Love
• The Art Room
• In My Dreams
• Love in November
• Two People by Fire
• Loud Thoughts
• Smoke and Cigarette
• Happiness
• Wild Currents
• Born in November
• Porch
• Lighthouse
• Death in November

I Live Through Escape

from a place of sadness and heartbreak

i write this as i say

"now i always disappear on people, 

you see this has been a great escape

others first performed this one on me

when i almost lost my sanity"

i slowly disappeared from my friends life

so the call lines finally end up rusting

before any betrayal comes my way

this is my new greatest way to love, live and escape

Small Circle

they all pushed me to the edge

and i fear this poet quickly adapted with it

everyone left after they entered, with sirens in the background

that told me enough and about the need to survive

everyone killed a version of me

yet i fight, heading back into my safe space

a circle that is very small

and only holds space for this poet

Closure Beyond Reach

all you wanted was the closure i never got

when you expressed the will to reunite

your crime was to abandon us at a time

when the need for a savior was too high

i got your message and plea in my court

you stood like a fool and defended your crime

calling my convictions a theatrical show

and apologizing in the end after stabbing a dagger

A Cry of Caesar: Et Tu, Brute?

it happens when you least expect it

"et tu, brute?" were the last words he uttered

before falling down on his knees

a witness to a horrific scene

where Brutus stood with the crowd of assassin

with his dagger in Caesar's heart 

it happens when you least expect it

Caesar's cries echoed through the halls

the hurt was caused by a dearest beloved friend

who promised to stood by and defend the empire

Did Brutus ever shed tears or did he ever stopped his hands?

23 stabs but only one hurt that came from the one who he loved