The Armour.

Flaming red lips, clinking metal and glass, fingers slipping through pages turned,

Lazy curls falling down her nape, caressing what your fingers had dreamt of a million times.

Looking up you knew her kohl-lined gaze pierced right through and way beyond,

After all, it wasn’t a floating ghost you had opened the doors of your wounded soul to.

The endless talk hidden behind lit screens, a snug little corner, all you ever asked for,

Your imagination living stories that only your fingers could conjure up.

The moment of truth, that moment she had dreaded and you not,

The tables turned, with a blink of a veiled eye, vulnerabilities out on the lot.

A brave frontier? A naked fear? A clear blurred line, evidently obnoxious.

It wasn’t just your bubble anymore, but stark reality, in flesh and in bone.

You knew her story, you knew her hands, you knew her breath, you knew her kind.

But the only thing that you could fathom henceforth, was how much of you she knew or might.

All the hours after that you sat through, knowing you were running, running scared and running straight.

All the words you spewed that night, integrity forlorn, honesty denied.

Bits and pieces, your path traced by shattered facades or mere disappointment,

Were you running from her or your own shadow where your ghosts reside?

In holding up your weak tin walls, maybe you cracked open her steel-stoned vault,

Or maybe in her long line of breaches, you were the very last straw drawn.

Rest assured, she whispers poetry, she still draws dragons and traces stars,

A dragon she puts behind an armour now, an armour of everything that you were not.

Nostalgia.

Nostalgia is a bitch they say. I never understood what that meant until we stopped being who we were and became who we are right now. We are still us, the same people alright. But it doesn’t feel like the times are the same, obviously because things changed. But what things? Because I don’t remember there ever being a ‘thing’. Well, not anything that we acknowledged of course. You know what’s weird though, that nostalgia hits every single night, every damn sundown. And yeah, it does hurt like a bitch.

Remember the little game the PE teacher made us play back in school where we had to take a step forward for every ‘Yes’ to his questions? Yeah, I think that was our game. The only difference being that we weren’t in the same line like back in the day, we were at opposite ends of the court. We asked the questions, we answered the questions and we took the steps too. I guess I just didn’t realise the moment when I stopped asking them and just stayed in the game for you, but apparently you played by the rules only skipping the one that said you couldn’t skip mine.

Of course I do not understand, I never do to be honest. It’s funny, it doesn’t even make me mad anymore. I wasn’t even surprised when I realised I was halfway past the court by the time I saw that I had no audience, not even you. The game had ended, just like that, broken rules and well not broken but a slightly dented heart. So what are the rules now? Because I never made them, I only played to your tune. I told you I do not like games, half because I do not understand them and the other obvious half being that I somehow always lose.

I remember watching the sun go down together, swaying legs and beating hearts, we were never great talkers. Contrary to Harry’s beliefs, comfortable silence is so not over-rated. I liked the quiet with you, I liked that you just held my hand and didn’t kiss me when the sun went down. Kisses really weren’t our thing either, we were weird that way. Kindred spirits I called us, because we definitely weren’t soulmates. You didn’t understand my words, you said they weren’t made for you but you know what you said after though? You said you only listened to them because maybe I was made for you. You fucking bastard, always with the charm.

I’m still smiling writing this, I’m not mad and that kind of makes me mad if it makes any sense. I thought you meant something to me, that I owed you that sense of  togetherness. But turns out that I couldn’t have been more mistaken, you were okay on your own. You weren’t going to be my next charity case, and I definitely didn’t need one since I wished I could be someone’s myself. Even the thought of you makes me restless, only because I thought I’d let myself go again. I’m so glad I stayed sane, and I’m so glad you were way above my usual crazy dominoes. I call them dominoes because they always end up face down, never disappoint – not once.

I don’t think it’s you that I miss, I think it’s the way it felt to have what we had. I don’t know how it feels to you, specially with changed priorities but I feel a sense of emptiness. There is a space. Don’t get me wrong though, it isn’t uncomfortable or anything, it’s just very noticeable. My brain isn’t empty at the end of the day anymore, so many thoughts, so many many words. It’s hard to fall asleep knowing that you wouldn’t hold me for the same reasons, even if you did it would probably be because you were just too scared of a cold bed. It feels weird knowing that I’m probably not the last person you talk to anymore, definitely not the first person for sure.

You told me you had never been happier, I told you that it scared the hell out of me. You told me that you needed this, I told you that all I wanted to do was run away. You told me that I felt like home, I told you that it felt like a fucking storm. The day you knocked on my door at 3am, asking me if everything was alright; I swear to God I felt everything come crashing down. The irony of it all, our god-damned hearts. I hate your flannel shirts, I hate your stupid blue beads and I hate your stupid hugs that I never could resist. And you know what else I hate? I hate how you made me feel.

I let you in right at the time that you walked me out, I didn’t know and neither did you. I guess I lost my charm the day I held your hand before you held mine, you see, that was so not me and obviously you noticed. I watched you from across the table, smiling and talking just the same but your eyes wandered. It wasn’t other girls that caught your eye, it was just another life; a different future. You didn’t ask me if I’d written anything in my book anymore, you didn’t even tell me if you wrote anything in yours. I didn’t need to tell you the words that heartened me that day or the next or another, because I knew you didn’t care.

I’m not saying that you didn’t care about me anymore, because of course you did and you showed it too. You just didn’t care about us, the idea of us that you had planted yourself. You made extra effort, you brought home cake every Thursday, you tried almost too hard. The fact that even now I can’t just write a sentence and be done with it without going into an elaborate explanation just so you don’t misunderstand says a lot I think. We were never meant to be, just two lonely souls clinging to one another till the phase passed. It’s unfortunate though that yours passed sooner, and I’m still here trying to grab onto whatever little of it is left.

But you know what the hardest part of it all is? That it was all for nothing. My days are the same, actually better but the nights are just a little too long. You’re being so brave and pushing away, and you’re doing such a great job at it that’s it’s almost impossibly perfect. It’s not my Skype that rings when something is going on anymore, it’s just the door to your room that closes behind you. I still need to talk to you though, you don’t realize that and even if you do – you turn away. I don’t need you to be my wall, I need you to just let me be your shadow. I don’t need your cuddles anymore, because I sleep in your empty shirts these days.

You’ve let us slip too far, I let you do it but only after I tried clinging onto your shirt every damn night. But now I don’t feel the connection anymore either, honestly I’m starting to doubt if we ever even had one. Maybe all we had were your empty words, the castles you built in the air, making me its delusional princess. I am not going to give you peace by denying the hurt, I am not going to be a liar just because you thought it was okay to be one. I’m just going to let you go, just as easily as I let you in. That’s always been your specialty with me, hasn’t it? You get what you want, a little too easily. The room is empty once more, my bags are packed and unfortunately enough, so is my little heart.

Rain.

Like calming rain in the dark, pouring heavy, pouring on.

How could I ever escape the soothing downpour? How could I ever even breathe it all in?

Rushing through my hair, untangling and unfurling my golden locks,

But the flowers and the beads in my woven braid, washed away – baring it all.

Wiping away the masking glory, pulling at the shimmering volto,

As it falls away, my eyes reflect – someone I’ve never known before.

The pretty little boa around my neck, feathers curling up onto themselves – now overladen,

Dark slivers of a struggle unseen, now out for everyone’s cognizance.

My hands reach up with uncertainty, my fingers tracing the lines consciously.

The silken veil falls to the ground, my shoulders finally free,

All the crushing weight, forgotten – or maybe just so  it seems.

Just in a dress, in cloth as thin as air, shivering against the water, that snugly holds me everywhere.

Feet bare, the shackles still on, that’s one thing that will always be there,

Reminding me of days bygone, that i refuse to let go of, choosing to stay.
 

Is this just rain or is it a downpour of everything that I ever was?

Ever so elusive, considered a past, yet always everywhere.

I wrap my arms around myself, falling to the ground, pulling my knees into my chest,

There I am, drenched to the bone, almost naked but yet never there.

It always seems to wash over me, my body, every crevice and corner unseen,

But what i wish for truly is to be washed away completely, to not have a past, to not be me.

But each time, I’m left unsure of who I am and who I used to be,

Because here I stand, forever in a loop, nothing changing but just layers being peeled away.

With every cycle, I lose something, something that was never mine I feel,

Just afraid that when the last curtain is drawn, I’ll be nothing but air – invisible but on a stage.

 

 

Lullaby

I stirred in my sleep, feeling you move beside me, my hand instinctively moving to your chest to pat you back to sleep. You’ve always been a light sleeper, I was used to being pulled closer, to awake nuzzled into you on the complete opposite side of the bed and not even knowing. But I’ve always been glad that you’re that way, makes me feel safer or rather closer. I know I comfort you, sometimes I’m scared I’ll fail you, probably why I’m a little too protective. I always knew when something was off, even your tiny little moods. And probably why as soon as my fingers reached your skin, I knew this wasn’t usual.

I jolted awake, my eyes immediately trying to find focus in the dimly lit room. It must be early dawn, light was seeping in through our floral curtains. I could see your outline, your stuttering breaths, I heard a whimper escape your lips. My eyes crinkled instinctively as I pulled myself closer to you, pushing the sheets aside, my hands reaching for your face. I caught your face contorted in pain, my breath caught, my heart tightened at just the sight of you. Even in that moment, I couldn’t stop but marvel at your striking features – curled thick lashes, perfectly etched jaw line, full lips tilting up right at the corners – you even had some rough stubble just the way I liked it. I longed for your deep brown eyes, or maybe they were the color of molten ash, I always felt it depended on your moods. They were loving and brown when we were around people, when we were outside or when we were just doing random things – brown meant comfort to me, brown was the boy I cuddled into each morning while he glanced through the paper. But the dark tint that so evidently bore into me, it never mattered if we were at a party or just watching tv at home – it made my breath hitch, sending shivers down my spine in anticipation – well, that was an entirely different story. 

I immediately shook my head, chiding myself & trying to clear it off the most absurd train of thought that it had caught onto! How could i be so distracted! I put my arm above your head, my fingers brushing your hair out of your face and continuing to run along the length. My other hand caressing your face as I leaned down to kiss your forehead, my body instinctively wrapping around you as I tried to shush you out of your nightmare. I didn’t even know you’d nightmares, I’d never even considered it. You were so strong, so brave and so.. I don’t even know what to call it! I just never considered anything that could get to you. And here you were, shaking in my arms, pushing your face into my chest like you were hiding –  like you were hiding from something only I could save you from. My heart panicked at the thought, I knew I should wake you, that I should pull you out of this, that I should tell you that I was right here! But I was scared, I don’t know why, but I just couldn’t bring myself to waking you.

 
I watched you intently, looking for signs, searching you like I’d find my answers written on your skin. The fallen angel on your chest, my mouth went slack in wonder, as she looked to be stirring too. My hands unconsciously reaching for her, lacing along the meteor shower that traced her fall. I’ve always been intrigued by your ink, you always denied them having a story but I knew. I knew because everything about you held a story, and I was determined to unravel them all. You groaned as you whispered a little ‘no’, my movement immediately halting – I pulled back feeling guilty for something I hadn’t even done yet, like I was invading your bubble. You were such a mystery to me, so enthralling, no wonder everyone thought I was being silly and hopeless with you – which sometimes, I myself thought too. 

I pulled myself together, as I dipped my lips to your ear as my arms circled your broad shoulders. ‘Baby?’, I whispered uncertainly, ‘Honey, wake up’. It took me a few more whispers, kisses and some shaking to wake you out of it. You looked surprised, you looked at me like you didn’t even know me for a second there. I knew it was silly, but my heart wrenched, it hurt even though I knew it was fleeting. You picked yourself off the bed onto your elbows, all the muscles suddenly more defined along your torso, your hands automatically reaching to tuck my straying strands behind my ear, a habit that i was more than just accustomed to by now. I almost smiled at the look of concern on your face, your eyes probing mine for any trouble. You pulled me in, bringing your lips to my hair as you whispered, ‘Are you okay babe?’ And I could all but giggle at the situation! 

Here I was thinking I would save you from whatever it was that had troubled you in your sleep, and the moment you were awake – every cell in your body did the same for me. God, this boy! This boy would be the end of me. I smiled as I pulled you into me, remembering that you always said it was almost comical how I tried to fit all of the six foot tall you into me, like it was even possible! Maybe we would talk about it another time, maybe over breakfast if you ever let me out of bed to get to making it first, but not now. We were okay, just tangled up in each other, just us and the morning light.

My body relaxed as I heard you sigh contently against my neck, feeling your heart settle into a lazy beat, fully aware that you were falling back asleep like nothing had happened. I let a stupid grin plaster onto my face as I remembered all the thoughts that had run through my mind in the past 15 minutes. You awakened that in me, you made me so much more receptive and in touch with everything. I loved it that you did that, I loved it even more because I knew I did the same to you. We kept each other on the edge, fully aware that neither of us were letting go. Just a tiny little thing that I probably never noticed with any of my boyfriends before, that tiny little thing had led my mind into overdrive. 

I let myself melt into your chest, my legs locking into yours, trying to match my breath to yours. That had become my very own lullaby ever since the first time I fell asleep with you. I closed my eyes as I pulled in a long breath, reminding myself to etch your smell into memory. I felt myself drift away with you, to wherever you were taking me and not once did I harbour a doubt. Never even once, since I met you. 

My Paper Heart.

Ink blotches, soft curves, hazy lines & erratic words.

Can be redone, rewritten, but not replaced.

John Green called me a ‘ Paper Girl’,

But he knew not of my paper heart.

 

Guess I’ve always had paper for a heart,

For everyone to etch their name on,

Some leaving mere fingerprints, some just their names,

Others searing right through it all.

 

Memories washed away with spilled coffee,

Names over-written in obnoxious hot pink,

Crinkled paper, withered with seasons,

Otherwise intact, over-laden with ink.

 

In a valley, overlooking a dazzling river, horses on the riverbed,

Morning drizzle, some fresh brew, & a hint of strong nicotine.

That is how you’re etched on here too,

Chains & a beanie et al, black from head to toe.

 

Rest assured, the rest of your story,

I’ve taken up the task to scribble in too.

No blurry faces, no moment archived & forgotten,

I’ll write you in in shiny bright red letters, with no further ado.

 

& for nostalgia’s sake, here you go..

When I said I like being alone, but then asked you to take a walk with me..

& you just did, like that was what you wanted too.

& that little stranger, that was when i knew.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She, who’ll never be.

She may never be your’s,
May never be who you wish she’d be.

She may never be your leading light that shows the way,
But be the blinding darkness that engulfs & consumes your every sway.

She may never be the fire engine, swooping into your rescue.
But be the very fire that ignites the depths of your heart, spinning its beat askew.

She may never be your anchor, founding you into your stance.
But be the very wind that pulls you along, forced to keep rhythm to her dance.

She may never be the soothing warmth of your day,
But be the unsettling cold that chills your flesh & makes your bones rattle away.

She may never be the music that soothes you to sleep,
But be the big bang that jolts you awake from the stagnation you ohh so grudgingly keep.

She will hurl you into the unknown, push you against the tide,
Drown you in testing waters, but always by your stride.
She’s not meek nor mild nor gentle, definitely not some disappearing rime,
But she personifies dignity & elegance like she owns the goddamn time.

She’ll be the thunder, the storm, the fright,
The veiled mystery of a silent dark night.
She’ll be anything you wish not to see,
Because baby, that is who she chooses to be.

Pixie Dust

The little bundle of joy, layers of pink wool, the scent of fragrant powder.,
All wrapped up, safe and sound.
Grabs onto your little finger & cackles with joy..
A Smile, like magic – Pixie dust!

A furry little fella, tail wagging madly,
Jumps on you & brings you to the floor, licking away all your worries for the day,
Even hours feel like ages to him, away from you..
A Smile, like magic – Pixie dust!

Eagerly looking at the clock, wiping the sweat off her brow,
Fresh coffee brewing, the smell of familiarity greets you at the gate,
She walks onto the porch, a look of pure love towards her most prized creation..
A Smile, like magic- Pixie dust!

Eyesight failing, knees aching, you’re treading slow,
It’s a scary world out there to be alone,
Not being as able as you used to be, you sigh helplessly,
Someone takes your hand and walks you across the street..
A Smile, like magic – Pixie dust!

He had helped her leap over puddles on the way back from school,
Always the strong big brother hovering over her,
Today she stands tall, holding her degree in her hand,
No thoughts, no words, just pride in his gaze..
A Smile, like magic – Pixie dust!

The feeling of emptiness, gnawing away at her insides,
He walks by, notices her for the first time,
She looks up and he winks, all forgotten, ready to take a second leap..
A Smile, like magic – Pixie dust!

Standing in line with all the other boys,
With eager eyes, at their best behaviour, hoping to be picked,
They walk directly to him, at last it’s his day,
Just a meek little ‘Mommy!’ escapes his lips.
A Smile, like magic – Pixie dust!

Running for days behind her, hanging onto the metal to keep her from falling,
Third wheel taken out, he lets her go,
Away she goes riding into the wind, his job is done..
A Smile, like magic – Pixie dust!

His muscles screaming, his breath tweaking,
He’s a long way from home, looking for another,
The last push & pull, he collapses, the highest he has ever been,
His dream and obsession of a decade, fulfilled..
A Smile, like magic – Pixie dust!

The Mirror People

What are we, but mirrors,

Shattered and patched back up time and again.

And in all those times, mistaken,

Mistaken pieces glued back together in vain!

Which piece is mine, which is your’s?

Which is that random person’s that i bumped into today?

Maybe there is, somewhere in me, a piece completely mine,

only surrounded by a stranger’s, if i may say!

You might be a part of so many people more,

so many a part of you for sure.

Unknowingly or with knowing guilt or by mere chance,

you leave a part and take another to be your own.

Each hand you shake, each hello you wave,

Each smile you spread, each heart you stole,

Every tear you caused, every kind word you spoke,

Everything you touch, blossoms, bespoke.

Embrace change, because it’s nothing but you.

Learning over the years, how to be and who!

If it scares you, don’t fret and revert,

If everyone did that, then the whole world would just be stuck!

You can be anyone you want to be, chosen instantly,

because you’re already that inside somewhere.

Just imagine how beautiful it is, how divine,

That you ain’t just you but a million people more!

So be proud of all your pieces, sticking to each other with strength,

you now know that even if you break again, you’ll stand up tall with grace.

Because you’re but a million mirror pieces,

reflecting who has come, who has gone or stayed.

The Epiphany.

Do you know that feeling of Epiphany when you just know that you’ve been alright for awhile now but were too okay to realise it?

Exact same words sent on the office communicator to the best friend, right after it hit me. I had been playing Ed Sheeran’s ‘Photograph’ on loop for almost an hour by then. I caught myself smiling for no particular reason – ‘Long time no see’ kind of a thing recently! I had been needing reasons to be happy, reasons to go out, reasons to crib about life, reasons to talk to people, reasons to avoid some – a whole lot of reasons for a whole lot of things! *sigh* But, it was all alright. Nothing amazing, just calm & okay. 😀

Another conversation with another friend, who writes too, happened today. I asked her if she had written anything new & she said she had been uninspired lately, just a few sentences here & there. We got talking and I confessed to her ( & to you now! :mrgreen:) that I have had an anonymous blog for almost 5 months now where I write about everything that is wrong with my life & just rant about it, writing about feelings & things that I wish were better. Funnily enough, that blog has a 600+ following! People feed off of all the turmoil that other people are going through, maybe because it proves it to them that they aren’t the only ones. But I have run out of material for that blog now! & the blog that I have material for is going nowhere! I find that incredibly funny! 😁

It almost feels like we need tragedy to survive on, to feel connected to someone else. Now that I think about it, you probably bonded with the closest of your friends over something sad. People seem to be less interested in you if you’re generically ‘okay’. You should either be ADHD-level happy or a total train-wreck, nowhere in between is acceptable because that makes you boring. Trust me on that, I have been at both ends and the in-between!

Talking about the ‘Epiphany’ part – no skipping mushy songs, no changing passwords, no lone times, always have plans, too many people to talk to, options wide open! 😉 Life is great & isn’t this how it’s supposed to be? I’m writing, playing my guitar, got my sketchbook out, slaying dubsmash, tennis practice, getting better at bowling, seeing places, making heads turn – doing what I should have been doing all along. And today was the day I realised I was out of the routine daze! *mental hurray* We kind of romanticize sadness – that is not the only feeling you know, but somehow that appeals to people. You set a certain ‘ideal’ behaviour after an event in your head & act it out consciously. You set ‘ideal’ personality traits & act them out. You expect ‘ideal’ interactions with people and all this just complicates the fish out of your life! There are no ‘ideals’, there are just ‘things’ & ‘people’.

It’s okay if you aren’t popular enough, don’t have to be successful at everything you get your hands into, don’t have to make everything work, don’t have to be amazingly awesome – just being okay has a kind of a charm to it. It shows when you’re around people & sometimes it’s just bloody attractive to be comfortable in your own skin. It’s bloody attractive to be vaguely sorted, have clarity in a dazed way, to be comfortable with lone time with just yourself. Because this is when ‘You’ are okay with yourself, other people are left with no other choice than to be okay wit you as well.

I have noticed that it shows in the way people around you react to you, there is a level of comfort when they interact with you. No more stepping-on-glass conversations or handle-with-care treatment and the friendship just becomes more easy and breathable. & Voila! Everyone is happy! Moreover, a lot of people you meet or things you do when you’re anywhere between 16-22 are temporary. I have learnt to breathe easy. 22 isn’t such a big number you know, there is a whole lot of time! & time, amigos, is everything! A whole lot of Ed Sheeran & Taylor Swift & John Meyer
to listen to without cringing and an entire world to walk the length of with ‘Imagine Dragons’ in your ear.

So, be okay. That is all there is. You’re going to pull through anyway, just make sure to do it in style 😉

Meanwhile,
I am gonna write-write-write-write-write it all, just write it all! *obsessing over the supernatural parody of shake it off*

P. S. This post kind of has the feel of a ‘Letter to Self’ but WTH, publish it anyway! 😜

Four Words.

“What was I thinking?”,
the only four words that resonated each time.
Each time she caught her own reflection,
“That can’t be right!”
Four words again, different yet the same.

Picking up the pieces, stringing all the pearls.
Washing off the mulch, untangling all her curls.
She had watched him walk away, never looking back.
Saying time and again, “I know you’ll be alright.”

She wasn’t looking for a fire, not even a spark.
He had raged a forest blaze, thick smoke & burning bark.
Unleashing demons, engulfing her in a daze,
She hadn’t seen any of this before, she just stood staring with those big brown eyes,
She was in awe, she was amazed.

Just like fireworks, she burnt all bright and pretty,
Little did she know that in the end, she would be nothing but mere ashes – just petty.
She had been just a muse, fulfilling his selfish eccentricities,
Just another one of his beautiful little poems, just another.. Just another!

How the pain seared right through her heart!
Each time she heard those words!
“Just another!”
She didn’t want to block it out though,
She wanted it to hurt, a reminder of a soulless raptor.
She laughed hysterically at the very same words,
Because,
He was also only ‘Just another!’

She had seen them before, she knew she would see them again,
He was a master of his trade, nothing mattered to him, no pain nor gain.
It was just a fetish of his, a greedy choice or maybe just a whim.
She was left with scars that would never heal,
The very same that added character to the woman she was yet to begin.

No more sunshine, sparkles and rainbows,
Years added to her personality, years taken away from her faith.
No more a girl, prancing around to show tunes, harbouring silly notions about love,
A woman who chose her music well, just soul and nothing more.

“I’ll walk away too, no emotions or regrets”, she told herself,
Each step she took, just to look back,
At the little notes, tucked away in a watch box, lying on the shelf.

“What was I thinking?”,
the only four words that resonated each time.
Four words again, different yet the same.