I am left
with no money. How can I fancy any gin? Wondering within how will I slake the
thirst of my inner demon, as the duskiness will slowly engulf every specks of
light bit by bit; more horribleness will overpower me. The darkness will descend,
and drag me out of sanity, without any morality. I have to gather penny by penny
to prevent the inner demon to manifest to this humanly world ruthlessly.
This demon
in me, have to be dealt with kindness, as I slake down self to intoxication. My mind
needs to killed, thoughts needs to be annihilated, before it reports to her and torn me apart. I have to hold my identity,
which I have been hiding for so long to this society.
Cheap
booze, may work, I will be full of logic, as I surrender myself to the real me,
which I have nurtured for so long. Intoxication, is prime resort. Food, I don’t
care, I will survive, on my own vomit.
Without
money, I feel so vulnerable, exposed to the reality, like a living human,
skinned.
I gulp,
with a pinch of salt, and drift to the eternity, a safe haven for my inner
lord. Now I am proud, as I envelope my shame with my naked body. The femininity
in me had always yelped, combated for an identity. My inner demon my femininity
- my real existence, my manhood.
-Roop
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