Memoirs Chapter – 2

It’s like your mind

Is split in three

The good, the bad

And the ugly

And that’s how the

Addiction starts

You start to remember

Every sensation

Your senses are heightened

Your mind has widened

You can feel, all the colors

You can feel, every vibration

You are driving

But you feel like floating

Every second

Feels like a rollercoaster

You can feel the wind

That cold little breeze

Feeling like a child

In this newborn life

Your hands can’t stop

Your mind won’t pop

Is everything a trip

In this little crib

You are listening to migraine

Or is that another feeling

You are redoing the things

Every other blink

Guess that’s what happens

When you don’t think

You’re now writing long

You’re now feeling hot

One is saying don’t stop

Other is, in a stomp 

The other just smiles

In these very miles

While one says you miss me

The other’s trying to pierce me

I guess that’s what means to be a pro

Bringing you the feeling that you can grow

Are these even your thoughts

Or are these just roots

They can see the signs

But still won’t find

They say it’s not like you

But he says it’s just like you

Is that the Stockholm

Syndrome Other one hears

He says trust me

Other says kill me

Or am I just delusional

From every one here

You can feel the chill

You can fill the thrill

Some are pointing signs

But still they resign

To ever find out

What it truly confides

It gives you a start

You gotta push the rest

It is I you want

Not the other two sides

If that were true

Then why would I write

About my other selves

Rather than just you

You’re writing the same words

Over and over again

And still you seem 

To think it’s a gain

So many thoughts

Colluding and confusing

You are now sinking

With each and every ringing

It’s making you dependent

Reminding of every remnants

Now you can feel the signs

Of withdrawal kicking in

Where everything’s a mess

And your life, is a test 

Jonesing for another hit

To take care of this shit

Everything’s a jumble

And you can’t even mumble 

Is this what you want

Said the one who remained

Your hands are slow

Cause your mind is low

Unable to think

Unable to see

Unable to sit

Unable to stand

And then the hallucinations start

Feeling you’re in a halt

Your mind is cracking

And your hands have stopped

Every other thought

Seems incomplete

Till its accompanied

With it’s sight

What is this weight

That’s growing on to me

Is that a reality

Or just another paternity

Why can’t I decide

Who is the one that writes

Is this what happens

When everything is light

You can’t even rhyme

Feeling like a mime

What’s another truth

When everything’s a lie

Is the guy in the  mirror the reality

Or just another plurality

Of the significance 

That’s another reference

Unable to conclude

Especially, when it feels to delude

Just how much time 

Can you keep this up

Your addiction’s taking over

With every make over

And what hurts is the hangover

That makes you wanna pull over

At any time

You’ll be forced to reality

And at that time

You’ll be looking for a clarity…


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