I keep walking and along the way meet strangers who speak more of soul than just bodies.
I take one step forward and two back ending up in lone corridors with demons who speak of wisdom never spoken of before.
I dance in the muse of the night under the sky with no moon and only stars while looking up hoping to find God.
I hear lies on the lips of priests who have black hearts preaching to the crowd of goodness in the world.
I stare back into empty eyes and find stories the world never knew before.
I have seen broken wings take charge of the air with a single struggle.
I open up like a book to whoever shows me kindness and a bit of love.
My inside is rubble and my outside is just the same. I carry scars like warrior marks and my heart chained to the walls of my ribcage.
I howl at the moon and see through the mountains the dimly lit city below waving “hello” to me.
I hear sirens when the lights go out and screams when people surround me.
Nothing is audible to the world around me but I hear the thud of a broken heart and screeches of a dying soul.
…Everyone speaks of home as a destination and here I am trying to carve one on spot.
You’re hurting and I know.
Trust me, in this fight you’re not alone.
You have your demons and the person broke your heart. You have your reasons for shunning out people right now.
I understand, I really do.
Sometime ago my heart was bleeding, too.
I had nobody to put a bandage on it. I had nobody to seek refuge in, but let me tell you that I am here for you.
I’ll bandage your heart and try fixing the bruise.
If not? we’ll sit down and talk.
We’ll talk about all things that bother us, when we’re blue.
Its okay though. Please? Take it easy.
Broken hearts and flu’s aren’t my favorite, either but we have to work with it.
We have to work with what life throws at you.
So, I know you’re hurting and blue.
Trust, me I’ve been there too.
Not a good place as I should say but I had no savior and made it through.
In your fight I’ll hold your hand and be there for you.
Because, life is as kind to you as you let it be and we’ll be brave to fight our demons, conquer and rule.
Don’t look back. Didn’t I tell you? Just don’t look back. It never does you any good. Hear me? It never does. Never look back. I keep on repeating this but you never seem to listen. If you have to close a door then shut it behind you but never look back.
If you drop something then leave it there. No point in going back to pick it up. Leave it. Don’t look back. Never look back. I keep on repeating this but you never hear me. Listen to me once. Don’t look back. If the voices call you and scream your name just don’t look back.
Don’t open the doors you have once closed. Never open them. You closed it off for a reason in the first place. Never chase anything that will lead you back. Never do. Keep you face forward and your eyes always ahead. If you have to look sideways then do, but never look back.
Looking back never does anyone good. It doesn’t. The most awful part is that looking back can be consuming. You wouldn’t want to be consumed so deeply and not get out.
Make it simple and never look back. Cut off all that holds you back and never look back. Never do. You left it for a reason there so now learn to walk ahead.
It might try dragging you from your collar or your legs but please don’t look back. No matter how desperate the call is never look back. It can play manipulative tactics to convince you to look back but please, hear me, never do.
For, looking back will only haunt you and bring pain. Hear me, never look back.
*He kept on repeating these words every single day on the sidewalk be it summer, winter or autumn.*
I kept looking at this person in the mirror which was now a soul instead of a body on display. Drunk and high, exhibiting the true colors it possessed. My soul. My body long gone.
My soul looked inside to search for all the secrets it hid, all the colors it didn’t show and all the stories it cherished untold.
I saw a person who was at war with himself. Mentally torn and dejected from its own being. Striving for a better future to put the pain of past away, tucked it under the rug and pretended that it was not there.
The body asked the soul in the mirror, “What have I become?”
The soul in the mirror had no answer but just wept at the state of what the body had become.
The soul in the mirror and the body on display started talking. They talked in poetry, short verses and pieces of prose.
“Live, Die, Live, Die, Colors, Sadness, Happiness, Obtain the needs, Consume more, Search for a new happiness, Pursue happiness, Never be happy”
The soul swayed like a pendulum with the body, they both moved parallel that night under the starlit sky and the silver moon.
They danced until they became one and then went different ways.
The soul to sky and the body to the earth.
The soul looked down at the body, now grinning, saying
“It isn’t love if its not painful, it isn’t love if it doesn’t make you suffer”
The body looked at the scars and smiled,
“It isn’t love until its lost”
It is not like you have much choice when you miss them.
Those little gestures that made you feel special than ever. The universe seemed complete when they clutched your hand in a busy street so you know they would never leave you. Among the crowd you will always have them.
The way they put roses in your hair and jasmine in your wrist, they will wilt like all things do,but the essence will live on.
Sharing coffee on the terrace at 5 p.m while the sun gently sets taking away all the worries of the day with it.
Exchange of glances at a party.
Morning kisses infused in your bloodstream like heroin in your veins.
They engulf you, break down the walls you built up high to protect yourself and become the poison with no antidote.
You find yourself wishing on that tiny star, hoping and praying.
God I wish this to last forever and if it is a dream then never let me wake up.
People change and time changes.
You are made to suffer more than your poor bones can handle and suffer a pain that sets your veins blazing.
No pain killer can cure this ache, no morphine can numb it down.
Like it built up, it falls apart and slips away.
Within minutes, you find yourself on your knees trying to make sense of the broken pieces.
You try to fix something that is broken beyond repair and in the process those shards dig in deeper.
Bruise you and make you bleed.
It is then a struggle to fix yourself from there on onwards.
Put the pieces together and be yourself, again
Learn with time to live the way it is and put on a facade
Until, night creeps up and you miss them
It is not much of a choice when you miss them when the clock strikes five, now do you?
This is what I became.
A dedication to someone dead.
An ode to all the addictions.
A poem to the heartbroken.
A story to the suicidal.
A piece of prose to the depressed.
A rhyme to those who loved.
A quote to the distressed.
I became immortal in the heart of many mortals.
I became the poison.
I became the cure.
I painted my soul and whispered to the heaven above
This is how I will cherish
This is how I will perish.
This is what I became.
Lately, I see myself exploring foreign bodies and trying to find you in them.
I have been searching your coarse palms and wounded knuckles among these soft handed lads.
I have been searching for the smell of your cologne and cigarette smoke in them.
I have been seeking the glitter that shone in your eyes when we laughed, but their don’t shine at all. Not as bright as yours.
I have been observing if they listen, God they try so hard but cannot listen to the unspoken words of mine. They don’t understand that I talk but my meaning is always different. They don’t understand that I bite my nails not because of habit but because I’m anxious.
I have been trying to hide the broken pieces of me and they can’t seem to find it like you always did. They don’t understand that I curl my toes when I am happy and I find random hugs the best.
I have been tracing my outline in them but they don’t fit in perfectly like you did.
Lately, I have been trying to forget you by finding you in others but I guess they don’t know how to grant wings to those who love to fall, like you do.
I know it is you knocking on the doors whenever thunder comes. You know I will take you in like the last time I did. I will stand tall against the storm and provide you the shelter you need.
I know it is you screaming from beneath the sheets of illusion you wear. You want to shun out reality and seek solace in me because you know that I can stand the harsh realities of time and protect your dreams.
I know it is you running towards me when your infatuations go away. You end up with your broken heart on my doorstep, asking me to fix it. I do, because you know I have endured the pain of being broken to the core.
I know it is you sneaking up on me. Tip toeing in my life every now and then, asking for me to make you whole so you can only leave again. Walking down the purple avenue with your head up high and that childish grin.
Trust me love, I know it is you. I always have.
Nothing in life seems to be enough anymore
The heroin that crashed once like waves in my veins does not seem enough anymore
The hash in my cigarette that numbed me down does not seem enough anymore
Liquor bottles and absolute drinks don’t cease to be enough anymore
My poisons don’t seem enough to kill the demons inside of me anymore
I kept asking for the ocean and got the river instead
Finally, when I got the ocean and drowned
It just doesn’t seem enough anymore
My beating heart doesn’t seem enough to keep me alive anymore
Love and hate, nothing seems enough anymore
My bleeding heart on paper does not seem enough anymore
This whole concept of living does not seem enough anymore
My love, nothing in life seems to be enough anymore
Today I spoke to God
I think we conversed a while
I said hi and we lit our joints
I told him how I betrayed myself
And how I’ve deceived the morals I held
He laughed and grinned
Puffed and I smirked
As I spoke of how I had finally achieved peace
He told me I was lying and that he could see
I smiled because he knew and said I agreed
How I am a shallow being lost and not seen
I asked him all this time where he had been?
He told me he was there but just not with me
I told him my purpose feels absent and obsolete
He said I’m not alone in this feel
I looked at the decaying rizla, smoke dancing on my hands
I knew God would be gone now as soon as the show ends
And I would have to light one again, in a while
To see him again
To talk our ends