Where The Heart Is 

(WPC: Local :Show us where the heart is.)

Home is in the infinite space surrounding the sky.

The hotel room was surprisingly clean, two single beds were joined together to make it a bigger bed against the wall. The interior was comparatively simple, with green carpet and plane white walls. Two arm chairs with a table in front were placed opposite the bed. It wasn’t very luxurious but it was fulfilling his purpose for now. He gave out a tired breath and let himself fall on the chair. The chairs were conveniently placed closer to the window. He looked at the deserted road at 12 am which still showed a hint of night life as few cars passed by. The summer wind was softly blowing through the windows and onto his face. He closed his eyes to take it all in. Her face flashed in front of him as soon as he closed his eyes. The vision of her hair being softly caressed by the same wind that was now touching his face. Damn, what did this woman do to him, he cursed himself. As clock ticked by, with his tired eyes, all he could think of was her. In all the hours, in all the minutes, in all the seconds she had captured his attention. There was something about her. He couldn’t figure it out and it was killing him.

He felt frustrated, he wanted to hold her tight with a strong grip and ask her to look in his eyes so he would know what exactly she carried beneath those alluring lashes. He wanted to tear off the skin she was wearing so he could see underneath, the soul she was carrying. Despite his best attempts he couldn’t figure out who or what she was. This woman was driving him crazy.

He took out a cigarette from his pack, there were only two more left. There would be none left by morning he was sure. He wished there was something stronger to drown his anxiety. But for now cigarettes would do too. He took out a lighter, burned his cigarette and inhaled a long puff and slowly exhaled it out. Watching the smoke make patterns in the air and then dissolving in the summer air by finding escape through the open window.

This woman was like smoke… Mysterious, beautiful and a killer. She was killing him softly, with her infectious laughter and her enticing eyes.. The way she would touch him, ever so lightly and then disappear in the crowd. And he like a madman would follow her around. Trying to catch another glimpse of her allusive beauty. God Damn, this is getting out of hand he thought to himself. He was probably no good for her or maybe she was too intense for him. He didn’t know anymore. All he knew was he wanted to see her again. He wanted her fix like an addict. It was like this woman had completely taken over him. In his veins, in his blood, in the air he breathed, she was everywhere. She was all around him. He wanted to hold her against the wall, pin her and kiss her till she would beg for forgiveness for all what she made him feel.. If only he could do that. Taste her lips. The lips that lied with a smile. If only he could look deep in her eyes. The eyes that usually betrayed her smile.

By now the cigarette pack was empty, dammit he needed to stop this, he thought. At least they should have lasted till morning. But the thoughts of her were too distracting for him to notice how poison was filling his lungs all this time. He sighed and moved to the bed. He slept as soon as his back hit against the bed.

He dreamt about her. As always.
And he realized that he could never have her as the day dawned upon.
But he knew that in the night he could have her thoughts.
She was a wish never to be fulfilled,
But a dream that could always be seen.
And so he dreamed. As always. He dreamed.


(Flâneur  )

Her.

She sits in front of me, a walking contradiction. A cigarette between her lips and a pack in her lap, a lighter in another hand flipping it on and off. She knew that drove me crazy and that I wanted her to stop but she got off on driving me crazy so I let her. This time I let her. I could tell the storm in her head was a little too much for her to bear today. I could see the blizzard in her eyes and tornado right on the tip of her tongue. She was a fiery combustion on most days but a cyclone of hurricane and angst on days like these. And the most damage she did was to herself.

“You shouldn’t smoke this much. I don’t have to tell you how unhealthy it is.” I tell her.

“F**k off. I don’t like you very much.” She says taking a long hard puff of her cigarette, that I’m pretty sure went as far down in her lungs as it possibly could. Poison seeping into its walls. She looked me in the eyes as if challenging me to stop her from this self inflicting harm. I don’t know what would hurt her more; me stopping her or letting her continue to do what she was doing. But one thing I knew for sure, I wanted her against the wall.

“It’s okay you don’t have to.”, I say. She wasn’t ocean’s water, she was the stormy raining sky. She was a downpour of defiance and sass.

“You think you know everything, but you don’t. And stop leaving your body to corrode. You need to stop letting them steal you from you so easily. You give yourself on a fucking plate. You are the kind they devour. The kind they relish while tearing apart piece by piece. The kind they ravage and enjoy. Stop please stop.”

The ash from the burning cigarette was falling off the edge at the end of her fingertips. And i felt like so was she; falling off the edge. Or was it me? I was the one falling for her. There was no saving me from the fall but I wanted to save her. She had enough damage done to her, another fall and I could feel that would break her. Shatter, more precisely. Her head and heart were already pretty disintegrated.

“Don’t tell me what to do and what not to do. Who the fuck do you think you are?” She roars. So headstrong and untamed. “Just let me be. This body is mine, let me do whatever I want with it.”

“What about the soul that houses in it?”

“What about it? Do you want it? Take it. All those that came before you wanted the same. Everybody wants a piece of it. Take it, whatever’s left of it. I don’t need it anymore. I don’t fucking care.” She threw away the cigarette she was smoking and reached for another
from her pack.

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

She contemplated for a second, flipping the lighter on and off between her fingers. She looked at me. She was unraveling me with her eyes and I felt it. I was a frightened boy trapped in a man’s body and she saw it. She kept staring at me quietly, and I felt weak. She was looking at me like she was deciphering me, like a code that cracked the moment she laid eyes on me. A part of me was afraid of what she’d find. Or if what she would find be worthy of her. Her gaze was scrutinizing. Maybe I should have just let her smoke, I mulled over my decision. She stopped playing with her lighter and eased back into her chair, her legs sprawled casually in front of her.

“Okay.”, she finally said. And her rain met with my athirst river.

(In response to Discover challenge: Portraits and Daily prompt:Maybe)

Cigarettes & Smoke

Weekly Photo Challenge: Symbolic
Darken

I watched the cigarette smoke dilute in air as I took another puff from it. It made me think of how everything in life has this tendency to dilute and disappear; people, things, feelings. Everything eventually dissolves into nothingness. How everything is finite. Meant to end sooner or later. Yet we cling on; to a person, thing, love for our dear life. Like it’s meant to bring us peace. Like it will save us from the finite nature of life. We become addicted to all these things, like I’ve become addicted to this smoke that slowly fills up my lungs, warming up my airway as I slowly exhale it out and watch it make patterns in the air, momentarily celebrating its freedom as it dances giving its last final performance and then disappears, never to be seen again. This smoke will probably kill me, I know that yet I cling on, maybe because it gives me an illusion of peace, of escape. The same way we cling on to a person, thing, love whatever provides us with illusions. Life isn’t any different from a cigarette and it’s smoke. We know it’s slowly killing us, yet we get so lost in people, things, feelings, watch them slowly take our pieces away as we slowly dissolve into mortality of life. It’s a two-way sword. Either way life is gonna kill us then why not let it destroy us, why not self-destruct, why not let the smoke take over. Why not go down in flames as we reduce to ashes. As our bones turn brittle, skin wrinkles and our memories fade… Like smoke. We savor it for one last time and just like that the darkness takes over.

Note: This post by no means encourages or promotes smoking.
Cigarette Smoking May be Hazardous to Your Health.