Sick Love

Sick and tired of your burning mess
Its all your fault, anyone can guess
I’m leaving baby don’t try and stop me now,
You don’t have a say, more or less

Stop it girl, don’t give me that face
I’m gonna pack my things, won’t leave a trace
Cut your whining and quit wasting my time
Hey hey girl, you don’t have a case

A sigh of relief, now I’m finally on the train
Looking at you staring at me in the rain
Don’t cry baby, I won’t be back
Flush all your memories down the drain

Looking back, you used to drive me wild
Had me on a leash while I was blind
Pay attention when I say this girl
You’re a crooked old witch, and I’m being kind



“Alrighty then. The barkeeper and the three other witnesses confirm your side of the story. There isn’t a whole lot of evidence to support the contrary, and the Prosecutor’s story is erratic and will not be able to answer some key questions that the jury will have. I have to admit, your account of events is hard-hitting and meticulously planned. It’s almost as if you are telling the truth!” Sir Justice Hawthorn laughed nervously. “All you have to do is plead not guilty to the charges, and, worst case scenario is that we’ll have a hung jury.”

He sighed and looked up at the discoloured ceiling of his small prison cell. A couple more months, and after the trial, he’d be able to walk out of here as a free man again. He looked out from the small, barred window to the world outside. Or would he? He wondered.

Some things are more important than life.

“All rise.” said the usher. Once the jury had settled, the judge invited the associate to read out the charges. “You have been charged on two accounts. One, murder, and the second, for obstruction of justice and tampering of evidence. How do you plead?” he said with a stone-faced look, beckoning towards the defendant.

He looked around, his eyes settling on the man whose life depended on his answer.

“Guilty.” he said, in a barely audible whisper.


“Dude, why do you look sad every time?”   he asked.
“Happiness, is a state of mind that has nothing to do with the external world”, he replied. Confused, his friend didn’t ask anything else.

He wished what he said was true.


He had been waiting for this for a long time. The vacations had started. Now he had enough time to sleep, eat and get binged to his favourite TV series, but he had to hear sarcastic remarks from his parents regarding his academic performance. “Do studies really matter? There’s no fun in that.” He thought. After all he wasn’t provided with any choice.

Now happiness is alien to him. And there is no job satisfaction.
He now realised, chasing his dreams would have been better than cursing his parents.


It was 11:59 PM. Normally, he didn’t stay up this late, but tonight was special.

He grabbed his phone and opened her contact. He wanted to be the first person to wish her on her birthday. He was hesitant, and he ended up wishing her on Facebook, amongst all those people who in real life would never even say hi.

In her bedroom, she was crying. She had just realized that all her friendships were fake.