A conversation

Her: I don’t know why you love me, but you shouldn’t.

Him: Why do you think I need a reason to love you?

Her: Because, all my life I’ve been loved for reasons.

Him: I love you cause I love you. Just accept it. I know you will leave. But, I wont follow you. I’ll stay here so that when you need to return, you’ll always find a home with me.

Her: Its hard accepting something you are not used to.

Him: Don’t accept it, just respect the fact that I want you. Of all the people, you.

Her: Of all the people, I will always knock on your door.

Like you do

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.

Purple avenue.

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.

Lets call it love

You and I, became “we” but not suddenly it was gradual. You were there to listen and I was there to guide you. Those evening spent in empty parking lots kicking cans and smoking cigarettes became the best memories. I remember, you told me how crowds scare you. I told you that you won’t ever be scared again and I’ll hold your hand. I told you how I’m scared of the dark and you said that you’ll always be the light.
I was just me, not pretending to be someone. You knew I acted in front of the whole world but not you. You talked and not just superficially because I knew you never talked much in people but you talked about the world with me.
I became your shoulder to gain strength from and you became mine to cry on. This was not sudden. I really haven’t seen a movie or read a book that showed this bond we share.
It happened gradually and with time. Between the first time we talked to where we are now, I felt for you what I’ve never felt before so for now lets just call it love.

I wonder

A needle to the vein is all it took to transform my castle of horrors into wonderland as I walked a path laced with drugs into the unknown territory of my mental decay. Addiction was not my fault, I was just curious. Curiosity was the biggest addiction of it all.

Pop pills. Smoke one. Roll another. Needles. Sniffs.

What used to be out of curiosity became a habit. What used to be for fun has me on my knees. I wonder what my friends will say when they find out that it is not all fun and games, anymore. I wonder what people who know me would think, now.
Maybe if I could get rid of all those memories I have been trying to erase for so long, I would find salvation.
Maybe the pain that stabs my heart at times and makes it hard to breath will fade away, eventually.
Maybe I won’t suffer anymore.
But for now it is all reduced to a glass of chivas, reminisce of old times and Johnny cash on the stereo till I learn to find myself not in pain and suffering but the joy that I once possessed.

schizophrenia and I

-And they speak again forcing me to listen to them.

Didn’t we tell you? This was bound to happen!
– My conscious is slowly fading away. I need to search for the cure or it is bound to repeat itself again. Dash for the nearest closet to pop a pill and gulp down water from the sink. This cannot be happening again, NO! The doctor said I was getting better.

You already set fire to the gifts he gave you but how will you set fire to his memories?

-OH! STOP!! Please. I could hear them laugh. Laughing out. Mocking my credence. Maybe fresh air would do me good? Hurrying upstairs to the terrace. Tip toe-not trying to wake the whole house up.

Fresh air is as good to you as the chamber you confine yourself in, all day! Since the past few months. All digital aren’t you,honey?

-What do you want from me?

Your misery, child. Your heart will die a slow excruciating death and you will shed hope of getting better. You will be dead and still be alive.

-Let me live. Let me be normal. Let me fit in.

HAHA! You can set fire to physical things. Drown them. Bury them. Trash them away. But you cannot get rid of us. You cannot set fire to your spirit. You cannot drown your sorrow. You cannot trash away your existence. We live here. This is our home.

-I am taking my medicine. I will get better. I will survive. You will see. I will find peace.

Medicines just make you numb to the world and more active to us. There is no getting better. You would not survive. Peace? That will only be a five letter word to you. Go on! Inject and numb your veins.

-Please, what did I ever do to you? Why do you haunt me when it is dark?

Because, you dared to dream! You dared to outshine. You dared to take more than what was your piece. And now suffering is your only release. Salvation. You are nothing but a beautiful face structured on lies.

– I am nothing more than a pretty face, big eyed, pillowed lip girl structured on lies

I am someone to someone else.

Some people in your life always mean more to you.
Some people in your life always mean less to you.
Those who mean more to you at times do hurt you.
Those who mean less to you at times make you smile.
Either way remember one thing, my friend
You are one of those people to someone else.