This poem is about the sufferings an individual has to face in order to speak up what’s in their mind. It’s about the times I’ve had to fake emotions, expressions and behaviours even when I didn’t feel like doing so. I hope that this piece will inspire others to think about the times they faked emotions which acted like layers/blankets… but only when someone reaches us with a comforting touch, are we able to know, that in spite of all those layers of fake emotions, we’re all naked beneath it.
uncovered raw apprehensions wrapped inside the skin
like innocence exuding from humanoid skeletal
calm and composed ignoring the consequences upcoming
in love with the idea of self-such that nature used to amuse in ways
now it’s all ruined like the season which went away and never came
like the climax we expected to be the happy ending which turned out sad
the symphony that we speculated to be humane sounded tyrannical
there are bleeding hearts which hides under the blanket of bones
vulnerable intuitions lodging inside the mind so volatile
pain drips out piece by piece left out remains every time
legs weak and hands are heavy carrying out imprisoned possessions
wearing all these skins over yet hard to hide hollow naked self
