Stars And Smiles.

I’ve been looking for you for so long, my love, and I’m sorry if I can’t see you even if 

(when) 

you stand right in front of me 

because my eyes have been sewn shut so long ago 

I cannot remember how to open them anymore, even when the wire that held them 

lid to lid 

shuttered close

has melted away.

I still only see galaxies painted on the inside of my eyelids

but somewhere between the stars, I once saw a comet tail of your smile 

and I’ve been looking for it again ever since;

I’m afraid if I open my eyes I might never get to see it again.

so I stand here,

eyes closed, face to the sky,

I stare right into the hearts of burning stars 

as I try to find what makes them burn-

I’m not sure if it might not be you.

I mean, I’m not a dying star but I have iron in my veins and doesn’t that mean the same thing if you have been setting my insides on fire over and over again every time your absence dampens it?

so that must mean you exist, right, that somewhere between these swirls of light and color and dark, you really do walk,

tightrope the threads of time between now to then,

that you live, you breathe, you smile and laugh

that it is your warmth that travels through to me,

right across this vacuum of space that swells up 

between my fingers, 

my ribs, 

my spine-

between the empty spaces on my bed that have your name across them.
it all must only mean that you exist, that you’re on your way to me right now,

that fate is weaving around our threads until we will be stories that won’t be told apart anymore, 

so I stand here, eyes wide open but not, and ask

who can blame me for forgetting how to open my eyes and see, when I’m so caught up in remembering pieces of you I know from before,

from when our atoms came together for a brief moment before they were ripped apart again;

even Zeus feared what our love could do to this world.

                                                                                                                                         

Image taken from: Tumblr

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A Poem In 24 Lines.

1. I used to pray for happiness, now all I wish for is peace.

But my mother never taught me how to pray for something when I can hardly speak, when my words jumble and clash and slice the inside of my throat as I try to get them out – my mother’s god is a god of words and the mute are all damned by default.

2. Heaven’s pearly gates burnt my eyes, so I knocked on the devil’s door instead – it seems to be though, that even he has chosen to abandon me.

3. I would’ve set fire to the doors of both heaven and hell, and laughed with you over the screams of gods and demons, indiscernible across the heat, if you’d have asked me to.

4. But my brand of love always comes too cheap and gets bland after a while, like gum you have chewed for too long, my love leaves an abrupt bitter aftertaste, so of course you left in search of better things.

5. After you left, I spent six months pouring out the mess you left me with into my words. The six months after, I put away my pens and paper in a locked box at the top of my wardrobe, out of reach and hidden like scissors and knives from a child with an affinity for sharp objects and blood, with an affinity for self-destruction.

6. Somewhere along the way, I got used to the holes in my lungs, I learnt to breathe with them.

7. At 17, I read that everything we ever lose comes back to us, one way or another.

8. Everything was fine until you decided to drop into my dreams. I started to wake up with screams of please don’t let me leave stuck in my throat again.

9. In my mother’s world, consciousness is life. When you sleep, you are semi conscious, you are between life and death. Your consciousness is divided into two, and what you see when you dream, is what the half of your consciousness that travels experiences.

10. My mother’s world is the one I grew up with. It is my default world, and when there are holes in the new world that I am trying to create for myself, they are filled by default.

11. I would like it if your consciousness stays to other realms, far, far away from mine. Because –

12. When she broke your heart again and you told her I had been right it did not magically unbreak my heart, stitch my broken skin back along every scar. It did not break and put together perfectly again the last three knuckles of my right hand.

13. Some cold days my hands still bruise again at the knuckles, as if my body remembers how I tore it apart after you left. As if it swears over and over again to never forgive me for it.

14. At 18, I realize that the only truth of my universe is Murphy’s Law – anything and everything that can go wrong does go wrong.

15. I have been cursed for centuries, my atoms cursed from every life they have lived. I am being punished for sins I have not committed, for lives I have not ruined.

16. My soul has collapsed into itself with a pitiful whisper, and my ribs have cracked from the weight that pushes down on me, twisting into my lungs until every breath splutters with blood like old car engines on cold mornings. Your consciousness must stay away from me, you must stay away from me because –

17. Seeing you dug up memories I had buried deep under 6 feet of concrete. But somehow I was the one who ended up buried under years worth of memories, heavier than concrete, heavier than anything could physically, possibly be. I am trying to dig out now, with only my hands for tools. How much more damage will you do before you leave me alone for good?

18. These cursed hands were made to create, I scream at the grey faceless walls that cage me in. They laugh at me instead and watch in silent amusement as I destroy my own hopes for salvation.

19. Everything I have ever started but never finished still stares at me through the incomplete painting still stuck to my bedroom wall with tape.

20. But I don’t know what completion feels like – what it is like to be whole. How can I make something whole when I am not?

21. And yet, if you’d have let me, I would’ve thought you my best project – you would’ve been what I was most proud of.

Complete or not, you could’ve been what I was most proud of.

22. My mother’s god is one worth praying to, but only when you’ve worked as hard as you can, as much as you can, for the fulfillment of your prayer – a god that grants you only the fruit of your labors.

23. Maybe that’s why my words fail me as I try to form a prayer, maybe that is why all my wordless pleas fall on ears that only turn away from me. Maybe, at the end of the day, I have never wanted anything enough to actually get it.

24. So tell me, where do you damn your life and everything in it to, when it’s all already going to hell?


Image taken from Tumblr.

A Liar’s Ramblings.

You ask me who I am. My mind screams the word at me, daring me to let it spill from my lips. A four letter word: liar.
Because that is who I am.
Because that is what I start and end every day with. Lies repeated to myself, sometimes out loud, sometimes just in my mind.
A three word lie, over and over, with each beat of my heart.

I am okay. I am okay. I am okay.

But-
NO. NO. NO.
My mind screams back at me.
That’s a white lie. Sometimes I am not.

Many times.

Not during the day, never during the day. The days are safe- except for golden sunlight, it reminds me of you.
But I don’t go out at all these days, and remind is such a funny word. I don’t even know you.
I don’t even know if you exist.

And the nights. The nights. The nights.

You are my sunshine. But the stars are cold, the moon is cold.
The chill has sunk into my soul.
Where are you, my sunshine?
Will you please come to me?

Why won’t you come to me? I even write you letters, so many of them. They don’t fit in the dusty space under my bed anymore.

Many people are whole, even on their own.
I am not. I was never made to be.
I am waiting. I’ll be waiting for ever.
Please, listen to my pleas for once.

I don’t want to drown here anymore. Pull me out and let me breathe. You’re the only one who can.

So you ask me who I am. I do not know.
But I can tell you just what I am- incomplete.

I Will Not Apologize.

The sun apologizing for burning too bright,
It has never been heard of;
The moon apologizing for days when it must hide away,
It has never been heard of;
The stars apologizing for their incessant twinkling,
It has never been heard of;
The clouds apologizing for veiling the sky’s blue with their cottony embrace,
It has never been heard of;
The mountains apologizing for marring the earth with their magnificence,
It has never been heard of;
The sea apologizing for churning too chaotically;
It has never been heard of;
Why then, my dear,
Must I apologize
For burning as bright as the sun,
And then hiding away like the moon,
For eyes that twinkle like the stars,
But are veiled the very next moment,
For standing tall and magnificent,
With tornadoes raging inside me,
Why must I apologize for my greatness,
When I was born with universes inside of me,
Bursting to be let out?
And if it is too much for you to take in,
I will not apologize for being who I am,
You can go waste your time away
You can go
Find another puppet.


Image taken from here.

Old Times’ Sake.

If you must act so insolently

Just because my blue skies

Are now grey thunderstorms

You cannot bear the sound of,

Please continue,

Only remember that even today,

If you were to hand me a cup of poison,

I would gladly drink it for old times’ sake.


Painting: “Sophonisba Receiving the Poisoned Cup” by Rembrandt.

A Sky Full Of Stars

In a sky full of stars,

I think I saw you,

But then haven’t I

Been seeing you everywhere?

In strangers on the streets,

And in captivating sunsets,

Never more captivating

Than your sleepy eyes ever were,

And in calming blue waves

Never more soothing than the sound of your voice;

Waves which might rage in turmoil

But will never exceed the ravaging of my heart,

In your absence.

And I saw your outline in the cloudy day sky,

I heard you laughing in my thoughts,

The sound as clear as ever,

And I’ve been seeing you everywhere I see beauty

So why should the clear night sky,

Be an exception to my

Melancholy

Heartbreak?

Sleepless Insanity.

It is said those who don’t sleep

Confuse dream with reality.

First you took away my sleep,

And now you’re clutching at my sanity.


Image credits: Tauba Auerbach

Grey Tiredness.

A tiredness hard to imagine

Dwells in the sunsets of your eyes,

A tiredness hard to imagine

In an eighteen year old,

As if you still carry

All the burdens of your past lives.

There dwells

A resignation to fate,

A resignation to whatever life throws at you,

A never-ending monotony

That seems impossible to get rid of,

No matter how hard I try

And it gets to me,

It pulls at the strings of my heart,

Makes me want to rip

All my skin off;

I want to scream,

Hit you hard,

Anything

To save you from drowning

In this grey,

But nothing seems to work

And I just watch helplessly

As you sink deeper

And deeper

Into the quicksand

While I stand

On cracking ice

Myself.


Image taken from here.

 

Temporary.

Light strobes flashing;

Purple, blue, red and green,

Cutting through the haze,

Gray with pretty colors in between

Closed eyes, slumped bodies,

Worshipers in the temple of euphoria,

All in seek end up here;

This is the end to the exalted quest

Of happiness, of purpose, of lost innocence,

And what better way to gain all these,

Than lose yourself in blue euphoria,

Cut off from reality,

Even if just for a short while?


Image taken from: Tauba Auerbach

 

Please.

Please don’t let me fight all my demons,

Alone,

And please do not try to fight all your demons,

Alone,

Because neither of us is strong enough to

Survive the fight,

I swear I can’t take anymore

Sleepless nights.

Can’t you see, I’m already

Falling apart?

Only a day without you and

It’s breaking my heart.