I want to ask you to leave. To desert this open field that I am in before the flowers grow and wilt. But I can’t. I choose not to. Because deep within the chambers of this heart, a part of me begs for you to stay.
I want to believe that ours is like the coffee – bittersweet. That we can laugh and scream at each other but we will always end up cuddling under the night sky. You, tracing the stars. I, smiling at the moon.
I want to believe that we can sing our differences away and find common ground in love. That we can dance, barefoot, amid the prickly grass. My head on your shoulder, your arms round my waist.
I want to believe. I want to. I want.
i have watched too many sunsets in silence
silhouettes intensify against a blue-and-ocher sky
to this day, i still look for you in its changing color
my palms still grasp for the galaxy of dust suspended in the air
i call for the gods whose names taste strange in my mouth
my throat still refuses to abandon all yearning
would the heavens know of ways to letting you go?
tell me, how long do heartbreaks last?
out there, a child laughs,
a dog barks, and every lamp post in the streets is lit
august slips away in slow motion, and here i am
trying to write a good story before the dusk collects past’s due
what would the universe take this time?
for i only have this poem to offer or my life.
I have always known I’d die this way—
Hands reaching for what’s left of the sunset
Wilted and dried
Like a sunburnt flower left in a barren land
Sadness almost feels like a second skin now
Purple bruises scatter from unbidden words
They pierce, they hurt
Reminding me of the borrowed prose I never get to return to the world
They say our entire life flashes before our eyes on our deathbed
But I saw a person instead—
Dimples and heavy brows,
A portrait of the carefree man I met at Bo’s
Something pokes from inside my darkened rib
Was it regret? Guilt? Or something else?
More, more
I need more time, Charon
Let me immortalize this man with words
Soak my pen in desperation, desire and dread
I have always known I’d die this way—
But why must it have to be today?
My hands reach for the last of the sunset
I cry for borrowed prose I never get to return to the world
I dream in fast forward
Of that which never was
My pale, moon-drenched skin
Shiver ‘neath the grieving stars
I wait in quiet desperation
Feeling nothing of the real world
Seeing only that which
I have not yet held
Between midnight breaths — a poem
Reviving my half dead hope
I spread out my hands to you;
I thirst for you like a parched land.
Honey, let me tell you what your eyes refuse to see
When I smile at the man who dares touch my skin,
All my insides turn upside down
My ribcage strain to hold out anger
My chest is empty of breaths and full of violence
A curse has latched itself into my bones ─
It peels. It burns.
Beyond my Cheshire smile is a war
Between words I want to say and the world that won’t let me
My heathen tongue is shut by the thing that you call “joke”
So I bite down a wrathful scream
Swallow a coil of sorrow,
Bury it deep in a mass grave of apologies
For being a woman who can’t fight.
Honey, you see ─ or perhaps you don’t
There is no safe place my kind
Against the devil and you, the accessory to the crime
Who thinks a touch,
A tap,
A graze,
A pinch
Is just being “playful”
I am not a toy.
I am bones and flesh held hostage
By prejudice and wealthy monsters
Who use my lack for their gain ─
Leave your pretense on my doorstep
For I have long died
My smile ─ no, my mouth
Is now an open wound for the flies
Open your eyes.
I know that I said I won’t let current news and affairs affect me. That I would take care of my mental health first. But there are just those days when people’s stupidity triggers the anger in you. This is one of those moments.
Chances are the water’s shallow
Chances are the water’s deep
Youth outgrown yet still a callow
Cowed to silence, afraid to leap
Her heart’s atwitter — a jumbled prose
Wind blows, her mind’s split
Stuck between dabbling her toes
Or simply plunging right into it
Photo via Unsplash
Sharing this very first poem I wrote for this year. It’s a small piece that carries my worries about life and writing. I took long break from both — spent almost half of 2020 floating, waking up to aimless days, switching between concern and indifference about the world. For a while, “seize the day” felt so distant when you have very little to seize. Thankfully, time and time again, I am reminded by something or someone to focus on the little things that truly matter.
Here’s to better days! 😊💛
Change my mind
Melt the strand
Of icicle that pierced
This chest
Let me believe
In magic,
Mermaids
And fairytales
And if, in case, you can’t hand a happy ever after—
I’ll have happy
Let me have happy instead.
I’ll take it any time,
Any day.
Facebook memories reminded me that I wrote this piece three years ago on this day. A lot of things have happened since then, but one thing remains: I’d still choose that happy any day. Sending virtual hugs to those who need it. 😊💛
She finds loneliness in crowded hallways
He finds isolation in busy streets
They are two ghosts, breathing
Living in silent screams
On a bleak night she finds solace
Amongst stars he finds peace
They are two ghosts, breathing
Chasing madness and dreams
Free stock image: Unsplashshe can be the phoenix
rising from the ashes
the knees uncurling
to stand again
the heart— all beaten
slowly mending
give her a crown of thorns
she’ll be pain’s forebearer
DoodleScribbles 