Captive.

In a dingy dark room with some horrid music in the back drop, a screechy sound emerges out of no where. People turn around but to their amazement see no one. Sipping their draughts, they swim back into their ocean of thoughts and frenzy of conversation. The screech emerges yet again. This time a few more heads turn and they see nothing. Again. The fluency of thoughts continue to fly by and the babbles of everyday life perches from lip to lip. Out of nowhere, again, the disturbing sound surges through, this time around only a few heads turn that too owing to reflex and not because they seemingly cared.

She gazed at each one of those people in the room,living their fancy perfect lives, delusional yet so content in the plasticity of their existence. Her eyes shone through the key hole like emeralds in the African Kalahari. Her screams echoed through the little orifice and augmented through like a gang of banshees out loose. Even so,she was unheard. She smiled to herself thinking of what will possibly become of such oblivious beings once everything material and palpable is extinguished and all that's left is incoherence and impermeability. Her face was drenched in sweat beads and her eyes were stained of the tears that she had cried. Her throat was parched for she spent every second screaming to herself and biting into the bitterness of her captivity. Even then, she never once wished she was out there.

" I'd rather die in here than have to live a life of lies and pretense. A life where every breath is traded for something immoral and patronizing. A life where blaring sounds are inaudible. Where will this life take anyone? How can one survive asphyxiating oneself and others around themselves and even then living in the pretensive company of figmental felicity."

She scratches her forearm to feel any sort of feeling. All her senses have hibernated and she feels nothing. Numbed by the emotions that might have once been a part of her. Numbed by the noises that surround her lonesome vicinity. Numbed by the voices in her head that tell her it's all over. She's a captive in her own life- a prisoner in her own right and a felon for being felt at any point. Ever.

So why should she not shriek? Why should she not cry? Why should she not taint her face with blood lest tears dry out? She doesn't. She just smiles. Smiles her broken smile to the innocent people living in the black and white film of life. Smiles.

Stop.

Stop.

Look to your right.

Look to your left.

Stare.

Cross.

Die.

Kiss of death.

So it be let out, the words that haunt the hollowness. The intent so wrong and the heart that has been blackened. The head of the wraith like snake that slithers into the caverns of destitution and oppression. So far deep into the cavern that it begins to radiate the tyranny and monotony of the so-called evil and unpropitious. Slowly the mouth parts and the the lips tremble, sweat beads on the forehead and your breathing paces, your eyes close and you draw me into you. I look around fro help, eyes wide with panic. The terror of death and found its way to unwrap my worst nightmares.

He leans in, his arms around my waist, pulls me closer and finally his lips meet mine. The dreaded kiss of death. And now I have no way about and out. For I have kissed my own death right on the mouth and welcomed the anguish and desolation that goes hand in hand with it. I handed my life to you, I bled my heart out in your palms and you squeezed it dry till there was no more beating or pumping- any signs of recuperation.

Even as I fall to sleep for the last time, a slight tear rolls down my eye. In memory of all that was good and every second that you made me smile. The flashes of the good years run across like an old movie and I wish I could freeze time as I lay on the stony pathway bled and dried. You left no stone unturned and en cashed my misery and woo-ed me into believing that you were good for me. I'm no angel, you will pay for this. And you too will get your share of woe and misery from one you trust and love.
You too shall be kissed on the mouth by Death and left in a plight as sinister as mine.

Cursed.

Abandoned.

In the street all alone...
Cold and lonely feeling helpless...
I look around without any trace of help...
No recognizable faces in the crowd...

I fall down and bruise my knees...
A slight dusty breeze gushes across my face...
And yet no sign of help...
Abandoned... Why me?