Night Blues

It rained just now.

Sleep was like an unrelenting child,

Refusing her intensely as she tried to hold it.

She kept staring at the cluster of droplets forming on the windowpane.

Every now and then a drop would make its way from the top,

And cut through the constellation of droplets.

Like a shot of breeze blowing through a dense forest.

She took a large sip of cold water.

Letting it numb the insides of her mouth,

Babe, you'll lose your teeth this way!

He would have said.

Don't worry; I have plenty of them.

I won't lose them so soon.

She had told him once.

The memory hit her like an aftertaste.

She tucked herself back into the sheets,

And hugged him.

His breathing was steady.

As steady as the sound of the rain outside.

Without any warning a tear escaped from the corner of her right eye,

And disappeared in the whites of the pillow.

She was startled by this sudden intrusion.

She turned the other side.

She felt a bulk on her chest.

Lying there motionless,

She wondered where would he be now if he didn't have to leave?

Will he too be lying on his bed watching a constellation of droplets forming on the windowpane?

Sheep Meadow

Just a week ago, I thought I could finally have a go at it again.

Ten days later, I saw him walking away.

Him, back to his own road and me, back to mine.

I don't blame him. We were like two sheeps who passed each other in Sheep Meadow.

By right, my heart should be breaking into a million pieces right now.

But I do not feel anything, nothing.

It has made me realized there was nothing inside to begin with anyway.

There.

However, I do not regret having met him.

Instead, I was thankful for him giving me a whirlwind of a time.

Weeping Willow

My pretty girl.

It broke my heart when I watched you cry.

Just to see your blue-skying interrupted by a dark cloud.

How you tried to salvage it, how your big, big eyes were still blurred with your tears,

and your nose tinged pink, even when you tried to joke about aimless, everyday things.

It wasn't a cathartic cry.

Not a single sob or sound escaped you. Except for the sound of each tear plopping on your pillow.

It was a cry of resignation. One utter exhaustion.

I'm glad you cried.

Because it made you feel secure. Not in your grief.

But in complete understanding of what is happening.

Because it mounted to resolve.

I'm so proud of you.

And I love you so much.

Sea

We don't hold hands when we walk.

Instead, we keep distance enough to let a person slide shoulder-first between us.

The sea is our home: the sand cold under our feet, and bubbles of froth, finding out our fleeing toes.

You clumsily run your hands through your hair, gather your guitar and land headily in the heart of the shore-

Where water teases sand and fine pebbles cling in a losing battle.

I see you conspire with the water.

I know you know I watch you with your knees drawn, writing secrets to the sea.

You smile innocently as the sea washes your hurried cursive away.

Lips sealed.

We walk along the high tide, decoding silence.

Tracing moonbeams, far-off bobbing ship; waves that curl inward, inch by inch, crash by crash, till they forget.

I push you, in a moment of anger.

Genuine hurt flickers.

I glimpse the remains of your secret.

My name.

Soothsayer

A soothsayer walks into my gate

Shabbily dressed and to tell your fate

I hate to know where I would be tomorrow

And she looked deep into your eyes to tell the sorrow

Strange birds flew around me

A sudden silence spread in the air

Her voice cracked down my ears

My throat dried up to resist

She said,

"You faced the coldness twice

And the third one will strike soon"

"You are in a snake pit and you will

Be brought down every time you climb"

"They will crawl all over you and you will

Turn blue into poison and your eyes would bleed"

And she walked out of my sight

And disappeared from my wet eyes

Here I'm scared to close my eyes

Here I'm cold like an ice cube

Here I'm afraid of dreams

Here I'm restless in the dark

My grandmother told me, "Death strikes when you are asleep."

I smoked up my senses, waiting for it to strike

Nights after nights I longed for days

And days I sat staring into nothing with heavy eyes

My room smelled of chardonnay and cigarette

And I knew that was the smell of Death

One afternoon when the Sun was bright

I fell asleep while struggling to stay awake

And I dreamt, a valley of yellow flowers

I realized, when I woke up, that I was dead for weeks

And the soothsayer killed me that afternoon

When she left the words in my mind

And disappeared from my wet eyes

Whispers & Cry

Going through phases of life, you lapse in and out of awareness of things.

And then, it hits you.

Like a jolt that wrenches your gut.

Abrupt. It swells, like a wound.

And you feel the tears collecting and your pride that you desperately grasp onto.

You feel it slipping, your manic hold on it, forcefully, loosened.

The voice within screams what you've already suspected. Expected.

You cannot be loved.

Loved, appreciated, no one has ever or is going to look at you with such a display of emotions.

Except for him, only him.

Dignified, profound, unconditional affection; simply because you were not meant to be.

They always want something, there is a catch.

Always, always something that you have to give back.

Maybe, your soul. A life for a life they say.

You tire, your core is weakened by the pang of this revelation.

It burns, like alcohol spilled over a fresh cut.

Wronged. Again. And again. Again shouldn't even be a description that compliments your mistakes.

But we all say it without thought.

I don't believe in genuine individuality, there is no such thing.

Inside, we are all the same, through and through, doesn't matter.

Why is it so hard for someone, just anyone, to love you?

For you, for all your faults, for all the ugly things you represent.

You wince at how pathetic you sound.

Self-loathe is not something that you can afford anymore. Imagine that.

Embracing yourself, only because you have no other choice.

Because only you have the capacity for it.

Unmoving, you remain too absorbed to notice the gradual but definite fade of the sounds from the world outside.

As your frantic mind reels in, it showcases its mental pursuit of some carthartic escape.

Well, maybe not you. Maybe it's just me.

My flaws, they excite you.

Because you want to feel redeemed like you're better.

Well you are, you are fucking better than me.

But in essence, me and you, are not all that different.

Soul

Today I cried.

Swear and tears infused, streaking my cheeks coughed forth by the sudden weight of things that I've neglected to realize.

With intent, this is not the person that I was suppose to become.

I look at you, and my appreciation of your efforts remain unmanifested, unsaid and unheard as I selfishly cast you aside, out of my life.

I know you weep in your prayers, hoping for some salvation for me, your unconditional love not repaid.

Words, they tangle themselves as I try, painfully to tell you that I never wanted it to be this way.

As I try, to express the thick viscous despondence that lay over my thoughts, smothering, suffocating, impeding my soul.

I've lost myself in this chaos of a life I'm leading, without a moment to breathe.

I rush through the seconds of my life, abandoning the principles that I've lived by.

Rolling, uncontrollably from one moment to the next oblivious, yes consciously oblivious, to the changes around me.

And more importantly, within me, the fragments of your soul in this world that is reading this, and you can make out what it is I'm trying to address.

Yes, finally.

I love you so much, you mean the world to me and I miss you dearly.