3 AM

3am, like clockwork.

Nicotine stains, ruffled sheets and desires.

The silken veil drapes around misread memories.

The breath in my ear, the soft growl of an unsaid soliloquy.

•

Lovelets, left to trace my bones.

Trinkets of lost moments, unfurled into my skin.

Life drawn through parted lips,

Whispering names, faded, a symphony.

•

Hushed amour, a forbidden indulgence.

Stealing unwritten stories, from diamond lined eyes.

Tresses for miles, an invisible line,

Evanescence, yearning, the only ardour.

•

Moonshine, on my tongue.

Intoxication, the redolance at your neck.

Naked remnants of strings unplayed,

Anticipation, a thirst for rancour.

•

Exist tonight, trace me down.

Disappear, like petrichor, a mythical night.

Waking up, with mere words for souvenirs,

I pen you in, azure ink and dreams denied.

•

Crossing the Rubicon

Born to glory, from rested ashes;

Of a past cordoned off in Wants.

Glistening in oil, anointed by experience;

Of a tread over-wrought with Cants.

•

Steadfast, unwavering steps across waters;

Rolling with testing truths and fateful lies.

Hold my gaze, don’t wither away;

Watch me, fixated, I cross the Rubicon.

•

Ominous flashes, crystal clear drapes;

Sleeves hung with dark diamonds galore.

A trail of silver dust, traces of despair;

Shush! Am I the conqueror after all?!

•

Your Crassus dead, Magnus forlorn;

Numbers you count, desperation reeking.

Kneel, you silly man, don’t hover in vain;

Step into the dearth of your own cosmic fate.

•

Listen, listen close;

Is that whisper from your Ebenezer?!

Listen, listen closer;

For YOU are my Rome,

and I, your Caesar.

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.

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.

 

 

Incomplete.

What is it in being incomplete that is considered a pity?

To be on your own, to be all alone, in a bustling city?

Do not confuse being incomplete to being lonely,

Lonely might be incomplete, but incomplete never lonely.

 

How can you be alone, lying in all of your pieces?

Just one or two missing, but yet all of it right there.

There is a certain peace, a certain sanctity,

To knowing yourself well enough, to believe in an infinity.

 

Because you’re never going to be complete,

Even if you travel a 1000 miles, a 1000 places.

Meet a million people, experience even more changes,

There are still going to be those few inevitable blank spaces.

 

Blank spaces are not always ugly or sad,

Like a sky full of stars with no one beside,

A simple sweet melody with no voice or rhyme,

Like clear white paper with no words by which to abide.

 

There is a beauty in incomplete things,

Like a forgetful old man’s random musings,

A single white rose, sitting alone on the windowsill,

A placid lake, with nothing in it or on, water just still.

 

If we can relish the wonder of such inanimate things,

Why question the incompleteness of a human being?

Revel in people, revel in their being, revel in the life that they choose to lead,

Because everyone has a story, a story being written, a story to believe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Dream Catcher.

I look back at the footprints I’ve left behind,
They’ve gotten stronger, harder, somehow more defined.
What were once dragging feet, crawling knees & a slumped body,
Now stand firm with another pair beside.

I remember pulling along so many anchors,
Anchors of iron, so heavy, hooked to my bones with heavier chains.
I was chased by a wolf, into darkness, into darker despair,
Only to be rescued by a dream, by a mesmerizing catcher!

I remember falling through you, falling right in,
A sigh of relief escaping my dry, scabbed lips.
The knowledge of having been rescued, ringing in my ears,
I looked back as cool breeze hit my burning bare back..

My dreamcatcher!

So inconspicuous, so pristine, so silent & still..
Just swaying in the wind, with all the metal lying just beyond..
It was hard to believe how perfectly I fit into you, letting all fall away, fall behind..
What had once seemed unreachable, I was lying now, right in its arms.

I fall asleep everyday, to the sound of your voice..
Your poetry that you trace onto my skin, curling designs with your fingers.
I pretend to be asleep sometimes, just to hear you say things you wouldn’t say otherwise,
To hear you say me, say my name, say my heart,
Realizing them to no more be mine, too far gone to ever come back.

I thought I’d never write a love song again, thought I’d protect myself from people who do..
But here I am, today, unable to stop, unable to hold it in anymore.
Because some things need to be written about,
Words just flowing, a desire to just write, write about you.

Dream-catchers catch dreams they said, keep you safe from all evil,
I was running away from a nightmare myself, only to be caught by you..
So was I the dream, & you my catcher?
Or were you the dream I was chasing all along?

Maybe I thought I was running away from another, running from an infinity,
Not knowing, not even a hint, that I was probably running right at you, right where I belong.
Call this fate, call this destiny, just like your poem said,
We’re only fated to do things that we always wanted.

Those hazel eyes, that awkward smile, you say I make your breath catch.
You’ve no idea how many beats a day my heart skips, how many fluttering butterflies.
You’ve written me many, read to me some, so here it is my love,
My ode to you, to me, to us.. To something far beyond!

P. S. As we always have inside stories, here is one too. 😉

From Cather & Levi, to Whiskey & Rye,
Cake & Casserole, Jack & Sally, all the way to diagon alley,
This is our riddle, like one of your silly old country songs,
Only we know what they mean, to everyone else mere mumble stringed along. 😉

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Change.

Flaws are subjective, my love.

The statement rings true, each time I see you.

I find it inexplicable that you’ve been hurt, betrayed & trudged upon,
Just like everyone else, like every one of us.
How could someone so precious be a subject to such deviance?
Your smile defies any signs of struggle,
The glint in your eyes promising a million fantasies, gone & to come.

Rediscovering highways each time you whisk me away,
Leaning into your warmth when hit by the chill of the night,
Saying things I swore to never say ever again, pulling down walls I meant to never break again,
You’re pulling me out, pulling me apart, but surprisingly, I think I’m starting to prefer it this way.

I’m starting to listen to my old Playlist again, only revived by new memories that are inevitably being made.
There seems to be no guilt that I dreaded would come with any change,
It’s getting easier with each passing moment, to savour life for what it is than what I thought it would be like.

Coffee is stronger, stars shinier,
Nights are serene, & days just brighter.
Added colour to the dull, another accent to my already strange diction,
Superheroes & rappers, shared paper & ink, lyrics & doodles, lights & silk.

Like I’ve told you already, I make promises baby & I make them for keeps,
Let me stay dreamy, let me sing to you, let me write you things,
In return I’ll give you destiny, whatever is supposed to be,
Because baby, that’s the only promise that can be kept I believe.

So hear again when I tell you, flaws are subjective, my love.
I’ve learnt to see myself the way you do, & I think I’m falling for myself again or maybe I’m falling for you.

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!