From my brother

harsh words and violent blows
hidden secrets that nobody knows
closed eyes and open fists
deep inside i'm confused and twisted
too many whens and whys
sleeping awake i choke on my dreams
i listen loudly to silent screams
i am on my knees as much dead as alive
looking at the wounds from i've bled
burnt out, wasted, sad, and exhausted
my sun has died out, the ashes drifted
i'm still here, confused and twisted


-Ankit Singh

Sometimes I feel I am an indigo child

A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive.


To him...


a touch is a blow,
a sound is a noise,
a misfortune is a tragedy,
a joy is an ecstasy,
a friend is a lover,
a lover is a god,
and failure is death.