Monthly Archives: May 2016

Before love turns cold

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Some days we’re like lovers in France
He holds me and kisses my neck
I hold his hand and know that he is mine
Whispering “Iloveyou” into crooked bones
Other days I wander around his body
Trying to find something that would make me fall
In love with him
After he broke my heart
But before he broke my hand
He laughs at me for loving him
Because I don’t really know how to love someone
Unless they are broken and need fixing
“You don’t love, babe” he says
“You try fixing what can never be fixed”
And I see in him a child who lost his way
Seeking shelter in an abandoned house
Hiding behind the sink
So that the cold doesn’t knock him out
It is a game where we both hide
And days go by before one of us is found
On the good days
He lets me in and we crash into each other
Like it is the only way we know how to love
On the bad days
He locks me out
And I become an immigrant in my own house
Trying to find a corner that I can call my own
Last night I asked him to tell me
Three good things about himself
But he couldn’t answer beyond one
Then I asked him to tell me
The three flaws he has
And he stated a list

“What about you?” he said
“I try fixing what can’t be fixed and I don’t know whether this is a flaw or a plus point

The Cyclic Meow

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Nobody gets me, you exclaim
A bit isolated
Alone in everything
From your thought process to your actions
“I feel so alienated in this alien society,” you say

Fifty feet under the ground, you scream
Tick tock, time is running out
Among your friends
Your peers
Nobody gets it
You long gave up explaining

It doesn’t bother you
Now
As much as it used to
You’re still figuring out, though
How can someone be so blind and ignorant
But this time you won’t voice it out

Answers come with time
Like peace did
In time
With time
Of age
So you don’t bother
Except for when something concerns you
Caring for others wasn’t worth it
And kid
You learnt the hard way
But, I’m glad you did
So you only think and care about yourself

Your heart sometimes
Feels like a helium balloon stuck on the ceiling
Out of reach
Mocking
But you understand things now
Like the time you fell down and scraped your knee
And your mum said how you fell on an ant
That was on its way home carrying food
So you forgot about the bloodied knee
Instead, looked for the ant that dropped its food

You understood that distractions are a blessing
Some people never grow up
And age isn’t a factor
That defines maturity
You fall down a couple of times in the day
Now
You don’t look for the ant that lost its food
You decided to grow up
Not that you wanted it so badly
But because you had seen
What happens when you don’t grow up

I’m better, you say
I will not turn out like her
I will not turn out like him
I will not be in this perpetual fear of being
I will not be like them
So you hide away things that you do not like
In yourself
Under the rug and over the moon
Perfectly, designed
No more difficultties
Or
Open ended questions
Dead or alive, until the box is open
Schrondinger’s cat screams
But you never open the box

Curiosity killed the cat
Little kitty don’t let the monsters
Trample you
And gnaw your flesh
You should stay away
From Schrodinger and his poisonous box

You can’t change it
You’re pragmatic, now
Idealism is for the daydreamers
More informed and concerned
But you’re helpless and accept it
You aren’t in a doubt about your identity
You’re more clear and justify options that appeal more
That is all
Your conversations are well thought
A cyclic process

Pop your pill
Turn the lights off
Go to sleep
Tomorrow is another day
Where nobody will understand you
But you’ll tell yourself to make do
Because, you’re here
And not there
And time is in-built in this world
With no escape

What the fuck is going on?

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My entire life has been in a metal cage labelled with the word “maybe”. Maybe, if I score the top position in my class then I would be happy. Maybe, switching to a different field of study would calm me down. Maybe, a part-time job would help me be mentally stable. Maybe, spending on this shirt would boost up my happiness.
If I socialize more? I will be happy. Take more pictures. Better pictures. Pout more. Smile more. Hug more. Forget everything on the dance floor.

“Young, wild and free” are my ideals-and if not? Make them!
It was all set in the future while my present became more intolerable. I don’t like to remember it, the past, I mean. It seems like a landscape rather than a string of time. Will this pill make me happy? Or maybe if I smoke this then everything will be okay. We’re all very happy. Can’t you see? My facebook wouldn’t lie. My instagram post would be worth it with the proper hashtag.
Their mask of happiness is more convincing than mine, I NEED THAT!
It has been a chase for things that I placed too far and out of reach, just so I could run towards them. Running gave me purpose. Running killed off time. Running towards these things was a distraction-a way of not thinking about anything that bothered me. Run like hell but don’t look back. Don’t stop and reflect. Don’t ask questions because if you do, you’ll lose.
I’ve always liked things to fade away in the background rather than confrontations. Oh Jesus! How I despise confrontations. The better I am behind a screen is exactly the value of worse I am in reality. What is reality except for a self-constructed viewpoint to justify the present. We’re a generation that rarely like the present and focus more on the future.
So where were we? Oh yes! It was a chase, to a better college, a better job, a better holiday and sometimes a better lover. Running after it and attaining it was somehow my mechanism to make this existence feel validated.
I needed my existence validated and if someone else tells you that they don’t? I call upfront bullshit on that. I’ve been running like a hamster on a wheel that has consumed too many antibiotics. It’s a race with my insanity and the world. I don’t really know what i’m running from or why. I simply do not know why I attribute things the value I do and then chase them.
Never once had it made me feel complete. I still do it, maybe out of habit. Maybe, I have conditioned myself to believe that the attainment of next goal holds the key to my salvation.
Fast car, big house, two kids, stable partner, a nice job and quarterly holidays.
But why does this plan seem broken? It is flawed. Whoever made this was just another hamster caught in the wheel. How do I stop this? How do i get off this wheel that won’t stop?
Someone help. Pull me. Make this wheel stop. I don’t want to chase these things. It makes no sense. But where will I go? All around I see are hamsters caught up in their wheels. Running. Running. I do not want to be the odd hamster off her wheel in this laboratory.
Shutup, they say and let us run! We’re almost about to reach our goal..

On my chest

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The world sits on my chest
And beats
Its claws dig into me
Yesterday, I used to be young
Carefree and unchained
Drifting through the wind
Today, I lay
Beneath the rubble
Of the past
And the thought of growing old
Without a hand to hold
Makes my skin linger
But then I wonder
Afterall this time
I’ve learnt to hug myself
So why
Wait for anyone
When I can save myself
From this world
Clawing
On my chest

Love

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I never felt the need to explain
Maybe, to me it was natural
But to them it wasn’t
The time he kissed me
And I swear to God, it felt like heaven
Then I saw her
She wore a smile like the moon on a clear sky
And I couldn’t help but conjure up more metaphors
To describe how beautiful she was
The day she sat right beside me
I wanted to kiss her, too
But that isn’t right, now is it?
I never felt the need to explain
Neither to the world nor to myself
It was natural, wasn’t it?
Attraction pulled me like a dog on a leash
“Not natural at all”, he said to me
And the first time I felt not confusion but dismay
It wasn’t my job to make them feel
What was unnatural to them be the same for me
“Society kills people like you.”, he said
“It has always killed people who dared to love,” I said
“You’re just confused” I heard them say
“Maybe, I’m more clear on the issue”, I thought to myself
“No, this is disgusting.” He said
And I imagined kissing her
“What if I tell you that I hate you after this confession?” he said
“I only love you more” I said
“Why would you love someone who hates you?” he said
“Because, nothing angers anyone more than to receive love when they expect hate” I said
But I never needed the urge
To explain
Why I was attracted to him and her
So I kissed her
She kissed me back
I kissed him
He kissed me back

And there I realized
Some poems need to stop
Without explanations or ending
A sudden hiccup in a story
Ending with the word
Love

21 soon

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I took my first drag

When I was 15

Now, a pack a day doesn’t count

My lungs are charred

 

I had my first drink

When I was 16

Now, 10 shots of vodka are pre-game

To a wasted night out

 

I first slit my wrist

On my 17th birthday

And my left arm has scars

That I attribute to a car crash

 

I wrote my first story

When I was 18

About a doctor who murdered his wife and ate her heart

And my mother had me checked by a doctor

 

I was 19 when I had a chest full of secrets

As we sneaked whiskey in water bottles

And crashed by the sea

Only to discover how violent it is at night

 

When I turned 20

I showed them that I can tie a noose faster than my shoe lace

And that night I woke up at 3 am

To find that I had fallen asleep with the rope tucked in between my hands

 

I’m going to turn 21, soon

And now Im learning to live with myself

Figuring out why I write about broken individuals

Rather than love like my friends do

 

I’m trying to convince myself

That it is okay to live with monsters

Be it in daylight or underneath my bed

It is okay to realize that you’re one, too

 

Someone recently asked me, “war or peace?”

And I replied, “war”

Because at least then you don’t tie false hopes

But look forward to predictable destruction

Lovers In A World Of Apology

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A lot of times he comes home
His breath lingers with tobacco infused with vodka
Knuckles bruised and torn collar

“I am sorry” he says as his hands hold my wrists tightly
“I didn’t want to be the odd one out”, as his tongue slithers around my neck
“I love you and you know it” as his fingers dig deep inside my skin
And I fall back on the couch crying
Taking the name of a Lord that he long stopped believing in
“Please, forgive me” as his kisses try to soften the ice inside my soul
I forgive him
Because
I am a fly caught in a spiders’ web

We have been together for three years
He knows how to make me smile
That somehow makes it okay for him to treat me the way he does
“You’re an emotional roller coaster”, he says

He doesn’t know that I take lithium in breakfast
and Prozac after food
I long stopped explaining and he never asked, anyway

I ask him,” if you were to die tomorrow? What would be your biggest regret?”
He looks at me like I’m insane and laughs
“People like me don’t have any” and his lies jab me in the gut
Because, I know what he is hiding

“ I am sorry, what do you want?” he pleads
And I know that nothing can be done
His sincerity is blinded by false bravado
So I let it go
Knowing that the cycle is bound to repeat

I call shotgun as he smokes the entire ride
You should watch how delicately he holds a smoke by the waist
His habits stab me in the heart
But the type of pain, I am now accustomed to

Today I saw him on the opposite end
Our eyes met but we didn’t talk
He knows that I can be cold as ice
But when he smiles at me it all turns to flames

He seems ashamed in the morning
Dressing up my wounds and every sentence dripping an apology
But his eyes twinkle like they aren’t ashamed at all
The tone of sincerity has been long forgotten
“I won’t ever hurt you, again” and I blindly believe him

“Someday I will leave you”, I say
“And that day we will be in our graves, side by side” he replies
But most days I am accepting him open arms
When my baby shows up broken at my doorstep

My demon is black and loves blue
He throws gasoline on my red flames
And calls it a day

My love is a wolf cloaked in childish innocence
He sleeps outside my door and howls my name

The plague

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Sadness is a lot like plague. One day you wake up to realize that you have the deadly sickness. Something in my body hurts. The pain has no source as I coil up in between sheets and cry. All I utter are empty prayers to a God who I only crawl back to when I’m down with the plague.
Have you ever seen smog in mid-winter covering the city? It feels a lot like that inside my chest. My bones have become hollow and crooked. The dim sunlight steals a glimpse into my room through the curtains as the fan sings a familiar tune. The plague paints everything in shades of sickness. Lost friendships and broken bonds ooze out of my veins like blood gushes out as it meets the blade.
Suddenly, all that I have ever tried to hide stares me in the face. Monsters under the bed and skeletons in my closet come out to dance-they dance under the sun. Demons don’t hide in darkness, that is a myth. They walk and dance under the shining sun.

Sadness is a lot like plague, love. One day you realize that you have been cured but still wait for it to creep up on you someday soon.