A Chaos Within

(Chaos: This week let’s embrace disorder and it’s creative power.)

There is this moment before the heartache. When you know it’s coming. It isn’t there yet. You don’t even know why you think it’s forthcoming but you feel it in your bones. Like your soul has felt it coming from miles away.

This moment before the pain is about to hit you and you know it will devastate you. It hasn’t arrived yet. But you know it will. And you know it will open the wounds again. The wounds of decade that took centuries to heal.

You prepare yourself beforehand. You are sure of its factuality. So there is this night, where you lay on bed and you don’t really know why your heart is sad. Neither do you know why you want to cry. But you do.

And then all of a sudden there is this moment of realisation that this is you mourning for what’s about to become of your heart. Which is already hanging through the gallows waiting for the final call to its execution. The strings are cut one by one with which it hangs firm and it slowly looses grip. And you know it’s about to fall. It hasn’t fallen yet. But you know it’s about to. You already know. And there isn’t one damn thing you can do about it. It’s inevitable.

It will come like a tide of the ocean that slowly builds. The more it gets closer the more ferocious it becomes, and you know you are going to fucking drown. You try to save breaths, prepping yourself for the impact. But you know no matter how well you’ve prepared yourself, the tide is going to come and it will break you. Like beads off a pearl necklace; You will spill. All the pieces of yourself that you put together one by one all this time will spill…just like that. Like they were never stringed together so tenuously to begin with. Like they had always been so haphazardly splattered across the floor.

Though none of that has happened yet. But you feel it coming and you know it will happen. So this night where you are trying to make sense of why you still can’t find peace? This is the calm within the storm. Where you know the storm will soon reach the core of you and you will be blown to smithereens.

And so, this is you; grieving.

October Is Here.

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Wow, I can’t believe it’s been an year! I wrote this following poem last October but never got around to sharing it. So I thought it’s only appropriate now that another October is here, to post this as an Ode to this month of dying beauty. It’s also a testament to how far I’ve come as a writer and most importantly feeling comfortable enough to share my work with the world. It brings back all kind of nostalgia to think I couldn’t share this last year but now I’m ready to own my writings and the writer in me. So without further due here it is.
_________________________

October is here and September is gone,
while November is soon to come.

The days turn to nights and nights into days,
While I wait for your return.

Standing on the threshold of our dreams,
I stand gazing upon the autumn trees.

The crisp air swooshes by me,
And leaves filled with color fall upon my feet.

I melt into the October sky,
I reflect how so many months have since passed by,
while I wait with my tears all dried,
And coffee turned cold.

The morning sun peeks through the autumn trees,
Solemn air mourns and weeps.
I need your warmth to save me,
From the cold dark nights that are soon to embrace me.

October is here, but not you.
Not yet.

Maybe November, maybe December.
Or maybe in January February.
Someday you will return,
Whether it’s March, April, June or July.

I will wait for you forever,
Even through August and September.

And then October will come again,
Bringing back memories of the day you left.
Leaving behind a flesh of heaving weeping mess,
Stranded on the doorway tracing your footsteps.

October is here again, but not you.
Not yet.

( Nostalgia )

Feel Darling, Feel.

Feel. I told myself feel. Don’t stop. You will not experience such pain again. So feel darling. Learn your lesson, down to the marrow of your bones. Why to never let them in again. So you learn from your mistakes.

Feel. Let it consume you. Let it reduce you to ashes. So when you come out beaten and broken at the other end, you know how to build walls as strong as mountains.

Let it paint you in scarlet red, blue, yellow and purple. Let it bruise you in colours you’ve never been bruised before. Feel darling, feel.

Let it burn you like the sun, scalding your skin, melting your insides. Watch yourself burn.

Let it destroy your heart like the hurricane on rampage. Feel it being blown to smithereens, every shard stabbing you, every scar being etched into your skin. Feel. Don’t escape. Don’t try to subdue this pain. Let it prick your every pore, one at a time. One by one.

Throb. Ache. Bleed.

Feel darling, feel.


( Silence )