If Love Is Pain Then Darling, Let’s Hurt Tonight 

She holds my heart in her hands and we sit to talk. I need to feel warm and she needs to feel safe. We are quiet at the moment but stars speak. Her eyes glisten like emeralds as she flips and turns my heart in her hands carefully examining it. And I’m surprised how there isn’t even one moment of fear that crosses my mind that she might drop it. Because I know with surety she won’t.

I have never been as sure about anything in my life as I am about her. I am actually glad she has my heart in her hands because I fear it’s her touch that keeps it beating. Without her love, there will be just colourless voids and a heart that keeps forgetting to beat.

So we sat to talk. We should have talked. We could have talked. But we didn’t. Instead we just lay together staring into infinite space that looked nothing less than pure magic. I wanted her to tell me things, anything. Lot of things. Everything. Just hear her speak. But her eyes were too loud for me to hear anything else at that moment. So I stared at her while she stared at the stars.

I didn’t want us to be mere accident like something that just happens one day unexpectedly. I wanted us to be on purpose- that just has to be for a reason. I wanted to love her on purpose and not like an accident.

She was a calm whisper in a world that was too loud. And although she was a chaos herself, I knew she could calm the storm within me.

She broke her eye contact with the stars and looked at me. And all it took was flash of a second, for me to know; I’d be a fool to let her go. Because she needed me as much as I needed her. And together, we were going to heal and glue back together our broken pieces.

It has always been her and me.

All those empty cervixes inside us that echoed with scars that still bled and thunders that still ripped us apart from time to time. It has always been her and me. And we, together, were going to heal.

Hence, she holds my heart in her hands to keep it beating, while I hold her close so she can breathe easy. I’m never leaving her side nor she needs to fall because she’s already safe in my arms. She doesn’t need to break herself anymore to prove anything.

I’m sure now, it has always been; her and me. And there is no way I’d rather have it be.

(Daily post: Corner, magnetic, homage, rhyme, critical )

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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.

We Bleed (To Transform)

(Transmogrify)
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I don’t know what it is about blood. We claim it’s a bad thing yet we can’t stop bleeding. We let others wound us over and over again until gash is a foot deep into our soul. Sometimes we wound others and get wounded in the process.

We clutch tightly to barbed wires of emotional attachments and walk on the burning coals of expectations. And by the end of it when we fall on the ground profusely gushing and wounded to our core, we make promises to ourselves; never again. But as we all know, promises are made to be broken.

The wound is by now infected because you didn’t take care of it well. You didn’t suture it on time and you didn’t put the bandage when you should have. You just let it be; as a reminder of all the things you loved that ruined you.

We fall back onto bed made of thorns of disappointment, exhausted. And bleed some more. We bleed until we can’t. We ache until every muscle in our body refuses to ache anymore. We suffer until pain itself screams in pain. Until the infection has spread onto every small vein and down to our very bones. Until we find ourselves disintegrating- crumbling, decaying, withering.

But,
How else could we have become anew,
If we had not first become ashes?

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  )

Moon, Ocean and Her

(Weekly Photo Challenge: H2O )
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She dipped her toes in the water to check the temperature. Today the water was warm, not as cold as the other nights. So inviting. So perfect. Ocean spread in front of her endlessly, her eyes gazing into infinity, catching nothing but darkness and with it moon- lit like the last flame after the candle has almost completely burned.

Waves, oh the waves. She heard them calling her name, in the far distance. Enchanting. Dancing. Welcoming.

She sat on the steep rock, her toes still dipped in the water.

Wind, oh the wind. She felt it embracing her. Seeping into her bones, sending chills down her spine. Hair at the nape of her neck deliciously stood at its touch. Enveloping her being.

But the moon, oh the moon. She looked up, was silent today. She was expecting it to beg and plead. But there it was, as quiet as the infinite space surrounding it. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt her. Moon and her had a thing, or so she thought. Her heart fluttered, her stomach churned as she kept gazing at it, as if somehow it would break its silence. The water was now up to her knees.

“So we are doing this huh. I see. You are not going to say anything? After all this time. Nothing?

Well no problem…I have a lot to say tonight anyways. Or would you rather have me quiet and say nothing?”

The water rose upwards about an inch, from her knees to her thighs.

“Hmmm, so silence it is then.”

She laid back on the steep rock, looking up at the sky. Mapping out stars, in hopes soon there will be one of hers up there among constellations too- hopefully closer to the moon.

The water was soaking her back now, it was rising fast. She smiled, as bright as the moon itself. So heartily that for a moment stars dimmed their lights to let her shine. She knew. She just knew; The moon wanted her too. And that was the whole truth.

In that moment, peace came. A tear as heavy as the gravity itself fell down her face. Carrying more pain than salt in an ocean itself.

The tide came & took her away,
Orchestrated by the moon,
For it wanted her too.
And so that,
It proved.

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 )

A Quest Of You

(WPC: Quest )
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Let me crawl into you like a tunnel to an abandoned city.
I’ll walk down the deserted road to your heart,
with caution and measured steps.

I’ll explore the wilderness under your chest.
My footsteps echo in the empty auditorium of your rib cage,
Whispering stories of ruins and remains.

Those wild dandelions smell of cigarettes and smoke,
You are poison and beauty,
A realistic illusion to behold.

You are a little more darkness than light at the moment.
As I walk through your city of broken hearts,
Some pieces hang from the non existent sky,
While some lay scattered on the dirt path.
I step on few by mistake,
I see you wither in pain.

I apologize for the inconvenience I’ve caused,
But there is something so extraordinary,
About treading uncharted territories,
To explore places that have never been touched before.

Let me walk through forsaken forgotten relics of your soul.
I promise I’ll not leave you emptier like the ones that came before.

I’ll rebuild you from ashes,
I’ll show you how beautiful your ruins are.
I’ll graze my knees on your asphalt heart.
I’ll stand on the boulevard of your shattered dreams and lost hope,
To rebuild them from scratch.
I’ll caress your skin until you come back to life.

Edge For You

(Edge: WPC)

There are days when even the earth spins with more sorrow and even the sky bleeds. I see it in your eyes, the anguish. You look away, trying to save me from it cuz you know I can always tell and that I will come running to share it with you.

I know there are nights, cold December wind chilling to your core adding to your suffering. I will be warm for you, I will cover you up. I will color your bleakness with what little shades of me I have left. I’ll cuddle you in and envelop you in my love.

There will be days and there will be nights. The one in between your smile and frown, in between your sadness and happiness. There will be lots of days and nights. But through it, I’ll stay with you. I’ll breathe with you and I’ll cry with you. In silence if that’s what you need. Because it’s a chance for me to be more than me, just for you.