Morning
I thought of those who had died in their sleep
Such a beautiful way to go
You rest, you dream, you leave this earthly shell behind…
I wondered how peaceful it would be
How there would be no suffering; at least in death
A thought crossed my mind. But I didn’t say it out loud.
Wishes are made with closed eyes and secretly in the heart.
I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep
6.30 am. Birds began to chirp. Sunlight beamed through the cracks in the curtain.
And I was awake.
Never have I felt so alone, so dejected, so sad.
It Takes Nothing
It takes nothing…
It takes nothing for me to lose myself in you,
It takes nothing for me to melt away in your hold,
It takes nothing for me to be mesmerised by your sweet, velvet voice,
It takes nothing.
It takes nothing for me to go from loving you to despising your every breath,
It takes nothing for me to go from having you as my universe to shredding it to pieces,
It takes nothing for me to go from worshiping you to hating your every goddamn word,
It takes nothing.
You see… my love,
It takes nothing for me to go from being overjoyed by this life to being miserable and wanting it to end.
It really takes nothing.
I danced with joy in the rain today and then it saddened me.
Now what?
Now what?
Should I just let the door CLOSE, and shut out the voices?
Or should I fight, knowing it’s a lost battle?
Now what?
Should I pick up the pieces?
Or should I DANCE on them and watch the colours unfurl!
Now what?
Are you going to just WATCH as I bare myself, moment by moment, piece by piece, one by one, to one and all?
Aren’t you going to stop me? Slap me? Shake me from my trance?
Do you delight in my reverie?
Now what, sweetheart?
Now what?
Is there no beginning after this end?
There should be, the stories say so,
Legend says so
History isn’t going to REPEAT itself?
But mama made me believe…
And I believed. Sadly, I still do.
This is going to CHANGE, right darling?
You’ll wake up any moment now,
Abandon your grave and hug me tight?
I can’t hear you.
You’re scaring me!
Don’t joke with me anymore!
Just SPEAK to me once baby,
Tell me love…
Now What?
Beautiful Mess
She sunk further in to the mess she, so beautifully, created,
Every fissure carved out with love,
Every hammer rammed through with passion,
Every cut traced out and made with precision,
Meticulous detailing of the cracks,
Scratched out blue wallpaper…
She breathed the mess through her soul and it came to be!
Her inspiration, you ask?
Oh! nothing really,
Just her heart.
Just her old, tattered, torn, little heart.
You’re beautiful
You’re so beautiful.
And you deserve so much better.
And even though I miss you,
I’m happy for you and this new life you’ve chosen.
But I’m selfish and sad.
And you being beautiful just makes it all the more insufferable.
Why do you have to be so beautiful?
Living Or Dying
Every moment counts,
Every word,
Every touch,
Every promise,
Every breath counts.
Enjoy it while it lasts.
Life and its uncertainties…
You can never tell
This mystery is some vulgar, beautiful, wretchedness,
We have got to endure.
Loving empties us within.
We forget that we’re losing strength
We forget that it’s robbing us of our sanity
But we give in any way,
Just for those few stolen moments of bliss.
Temptation. Yes, we’re tempted to enjoy the temporary glory.
Forgetting the eternal damnation we are calling upon ourselves.
Life. Love. Misery.
I know not of any other way of living,
Or dying.
The Crowd
And when I let it in, it crushed every ounce of me within seconds.
I was a goner the minute I let my guard down.
It was as if the consequence I so feared were unraveling in front me at the speed of light.
And the blow… Oh, it was just too fatal.
I took a deep breath, again, in search for some solace. Ha, all in vain.
Standing there, in the middle of the square, no one could tell the tornado inside.
People indulged in the hustle and bustle of their own lives.
Babies crying.
Old couples holding hands walking in the silence of their love.
Young couples fighting over a trivial deal.
Children rushing to school.
Mothers scolding kids.
Father rushing to earn the bread and butter…
Standing there in the middle of the square, no one, absolutely no one, could tell there was a tornado whirling within.
The calm facade camouflaging the crumbling structure.
So beautiful.
So lovely.
So picturesque.
Yes, life is poetry.
And I just hugged the soil beneath my feet.
That Still Night
It was the first time she felt the fearsome marvel of a man’s body. She asked him about his deepest darkest terror. His eyes glistened at the very thought of that day. After what seemed like an eternity, he answered her, with every detail and vehemence as though he was reliving that very moment again, once again. They sat there in the haunting silence of their hearts and souls. She had learnt of the most ghastly experience of his life and she could not unlearn it. She did not wish to. She did not need to.
The Beauty And The Beast Are One
You are so beautiful when you’re vulnerable.
So glorious in your fragility
So serene in your sadness
So enticing in your susceptibility
So pretty in your inequities
So fetching in your wretchedness
So tranquil in your desolation
So charming in your despair
You are so strong in your brokenness
My 20th Contribution to NaPoWriMo because some things just have to be said out loud.
They came, they saw, they said.