Unlike my last act of sanity ,where everything required consent,this was different.This defied pragmaticism. 
I swam through..all the way through,fighting my dizzy senses with utmost glibbery,just to ascend my conscious form.

With unserene thoughts joining cynicism in colossal range,I had a perfect recipe of kissing death,several times.

An enigma had my demons beg for more,crave for more.Poised with the unbounded falsary ,I didn’t want to understand.

I let go of myself,melted into the intimidating scenery.

I fell for the art in her.

Didn’t know my fear was the last thing I’d be begging to face. Didn’t want to understand.

I fell for the art in her.

Never saw the moving poetry,never was lucky enough. Never saw rage as a poetic device,never was disgusted by the quiescence. Never wanted to slip into the depths of puzzles. Never wanted to not to understand it.

I fell for the art in her.

And then I open my eyes only to realize that the fight of fighting reality with dreams was a fiction too.

Time demands seclusion and nonchalant environment for sinking the sadness in,but she won’t let me do it.

I truly fell for the art in her.

She is permanently tattooed in my mind,inscribed on my soul and framed in my heart like a photograph.

Funny thing this mind,creates a perfect memory and fiction.

So when I close my eyes,she is there. 

She is there..still in a photograph taking me far away from the very reality I despise.

I too had a dream..