Hey sexhay bear,
Your unpredictability caught me off-guard. I'd expected mucky, bickering weather. Instead, I got the most open-your-heart-out-and-dance-till-the-day-ends feeling I could have asked for. You are my happy place, and you've been around for some time now. I was told to either hate you, or love you, and I would have ideally liked to pick both just so I could experience all of you, but I was told I could have only one so I chose to fall head over heels in love with you and I'm not complaining. Because you've never disappointed my love, in fact, you've made it dramatic, outrageous, pathetic, sappy, grand and most of all, so bloody pure, that I've got all its worth. My bum bum, that you are, I always wanted to know every nook how you were feeling, went scurrying there slyly like a kitten even when you tried keeping it hidden behind layers and layers of curtains, hidden in the dark. Slowly the darkness went. And then all the fabric. Sometimes while chatting with you, I couldn't tell which one of us was which, I could as easily be you as I would let you be me. In fact, I have a feeling, you might be a better me than I ever was. I'm taking you with me, just because I want to some real living, with a hint of mystery, a dash of refreshing thoughts and a dollop of what-you-see-is-what-you-get attitude in it.
For what dreams may come..
Live dangerously.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
The Beautiful One
Dear Saleh,
I never knew if what I wrote for you or about about you was ever enough. I mean I know you would say otherwise, but it stuck on me and it was really frustrating to not be able to write something substantial to do with the most important aspect of your daily life! I mean it's not that I couldn't write about you. I would've just jotted away pages within minutes if you'd given me an ultimatum. But the truth is, I would've never been able to do justice to it that way. I wanted to get it just right. I wanted it to be more from the heart than the mind. I wanted it to capture the essence of you. Not who you really, probably are. But what you are for me. To me.
Thank you. For being my uncertified miracle. I never quite understood the concept of a cloud with a silver lining. A ray of hope. For me, when something goes wrong, it consumes me. It blurs my vision. I may have changed on the surface over the past few years, but I'm still the same person. I still have most of my old insecurities, fears. You know what's the most evident proof of that? My hands are unsure. Insecure. But when we're holding hands, when I slip them into yours. Somehow they've stop. It's like they've found a place where they belong. And I'm not just saying this to make this post seem a little more "touchy", but it's true. It's never felt like this before. And then I look at your hands. So sure and firm. So comfortable with what is and not worried about what will become. I think that pretty much defines us. But more of our places in the friendship we share. You're keeping me together. You are my rock. Placing every little part where it's supposed to be and making sure nothing falls out of place. That I don't fall out of place.
It's you. The one with the magic. The beautiful one. It's always been you. You've always managed to capture the beauty in everything that you see. That surrounds you. No matter how asymmetrical, unfit, and shabby it is. You have a beautiful heart. One that turns everything half as beautiful as itself, once it makes a place for it inside itself.
It's like I've transformed slowly since I've known you. I've learnt to be more of me than what somebody else wants me to be. I'd gladly be whatever you wanted me to be but I stopped trying the day I realized that all I should be was me. Just as I was. It was oddly unsettling at first. But I came into my own soon enough. And now I can just prop up my legs in an unlady-like way, or eat like a child you say with my mouth full. Or pull my hair back and wear clothes that do anything but flatter me and still know that you won't judge me. And yet it doesn't make me want to stop trying for you. It makes me want to tell you every second of every minute of every hour of every day, that I love you. I love you for being yourself when it came to me.
We never really grow out of the feeling of insecurity. Throughout our lives, somewhere or the other, we're always haunted by the fear of being unwanted. Of being lonely. Of things not going your way. It's only the scales that change. The emotions remain. But I know I can move on and face all of it now because you give me strength to. You make your presence felt. It's like I can shut my eyes and be assured that everything is right because even if it's really not, you're there. When you tell me something's going to be alright, it really is. I'm so accustomed to knowing you'll be there that it's scary now. What if someday you're not? Funnily that's something you haven't taught me to deal with yet.
You know that patch of shimmering water and the skyline that you see almost everyday? Can you imagine water without the ever-changing-yet-constant horizon? It would be almost soulless. The sea itself wouldn't know where it should end. Where it's needed for it to stop. Where it would destroy itself. Or even the sky without the sea. A hollow pit, where you couldn't find anything. Not even yourself. That's how inseparable you are to me now. I just thought you should know. One of the most comforting and wondrous place I have ever known, is in your arms. And it hurts to turn over on my side, in the middle of the night, and not find you there.
I know, I know, this is probably the worst way you've ever seen anybody express themselves. But it's all that came to mind. And for what's it worth, you're still a miracle to me.
I love you. Today, yesterday and all the days before.
Yours,
Fyy
I never knew if what I wrote for you or about about you was ever enough. I mean I know you would say otherwise, but it stuck on me and it was really frustrating to not be able to write something substantial to do with the most important aspect of your daily life! I mean it's not that I couldn't write about you. I would've just jotted away pages within minutes if you'd given me an ultimatum. But the truth is, I would've never been able to do justice to it that way. I wanted to get it just right. I wanted it to be more from the heart than the mind. I wanted it to capture the essence of you. Not who you really, probably are. But what you are for me. To me.
Thank you. For being my uncertified miracle. I never quite understood the concept of a cloud with a silver lining. A ray of hope. For me, when something goes wrong, it consumes me. It blurs my vision. I may have changed on the surface over the past few years, but I'm still the same person. I still have most of my old insecurities, fears. You know what's the most evident proof of that? My hands are unsure. Insecure. But when we're holding hands, when I slip them into yours. Somehow they've stop. It's like they've found a place where they belong. And I'm not just saying this to make this post seem a little more "touchy", but it's true. It's never felt like this before. And then I look at your hands. So sure and firm. So comfortable with what is and not worried about what will become. I think that pretty much defines us. But more of our places in the friendship we share. You're keeping me together. You are my rock. Placing every little part where it's supposed to be and making sure nothing falls out of place. That I don't fall out of place.
It's you. The one with the magic. The beautiful one. It's always been you. You've always managed to capture the beauty in everything that you see. That surrounds you. No matter how asymmetrical, unfit, and shabby it is. You have a beautiful heart. One that turns everything half as beautiful as itself, once it makes a place for it inside itself.
It's like I've transformed slowly since I've known you. I've learnt to be more of me than what somebody else wants me to be. I'd gladly be whatever you wanted me to be but I stopped trying the day I realized that all I should be was me. Just as I was. It was oddly unsettling at first. But I came into my own soon enough. And now I can just prop up my legs in an unlady-like way, or eat like a child you say with my mouth full. Or pull my hair back and wear clothes that do anything but flatter me and still know that you won't judge me. And yet it doesn't make me want to stop trying for you. It makes me want to tell you every second of every minute of every hour of every day, that I love you. I love you for being yourself when it came to me.
We never really grow out of the feeling of insecurity. Throughout our lives, somewhere or the other, we're always haunted by the fear of being unwanted. Of being lonely. Of things not going your way. It's only the scales that change. The emotions remain. But I know I can move on and face all of it now because you give me strength to. You make your presence felt. It's like I can shut my eyes and be assured that everything is right because even if it's really not, you're there. When you tell me something's going to be alright, it really is. I'm so accustomed to knowing you'll be there that it's scary now. What if someday you're not? Funnily that's something you haven't taught me to deal with yet.
You know that patch of shimmering water and the skyline that you see almost everyday? Can you imagine water without the ever-changing-yet-constant horizon? It would be almost soulless. The sea itself wouldn't know where it should end. Where it's needed for it to stop. Where it would destroy itself. Or even the sky without the sea. A hollow pit, where you couldn't find anything. Not even yourself. That's how inseparable you are to me now. I just thought you should know. One of the most comforting and wondrous place I have ever known, is in your arms. And it hurts to turn over on my side, in the middle of the night, and not find you there.
I know, I know, this is probably the worst way you've ever seen anybody express themselves. But it's all that came to mind. And for what's it worth, you're still a miracle to me.
I love you. Today, yesterday and all the days before.
Yours,
Fyy
F to S
Wake up one morning, in the same bed, the same house, the same you. Yet everything is different.
You don't complain about the rain anymore. The weather's not too hot anymore. School isn't taxing anymore. And the hours aren't too short anymore. Love. In the prospect of being.
What happens when you feel like you've known someone for a really long time, not so intimately, but intimate by default. And one morning they're changing the way you look at life, or determining how many fits of anger, how many bouts of tears, how many shocks of happiness you're entitled to in a day. Or two. Or more.
All I want to do is hold your hand, when no one's watching, snuggle up to you after a much too intoxicated night, watch every little movement of yours, while you stay focused on The Big Bang Theory, your familiar laughter. Arms around you all through the night, watch you whisper to me good morning with that smile, at the break of dawn. Nudge, just for a cup of coffee, sleepy eyes, and you. Steal, looks and smiles, and private illegal actions, at crazy hours.
Exchange lives, exchange breaths, exchange souls and remain intact.
You don't complain about the rain anymore. The weather's not too hot anymore. School isn't taxing anymore. And the hours aren't too short anymore. Love. In the prospect of being.
What happens when you feel like you've known someone for a really long time, not so intimately, but intimate by default. And one morning they're changing the way you look at life, or determining how many fits of anger, how many bouts of tears, how many shocks of happiness you're entitled to in a day. Or two. Or more.
All I want to do is hold your hand, when no one's watching, snuggle up to you after a much too intoxicated night, watch every little movement of yours, while you stay focused on The Big Bang Theory, your familiar laughter. Arms around you all through the night, watch you whisper to me good morning with that smile, at the break of dawn. Nudge, just for a cup of coffee, sleepy eyes, and you. Steal, looks and smiles, and private illegal actions, at crazy hours.
Exchange lives, exchange breaths, exchange souls and remain intact.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Home
It's been a long and amazingly stretched out 5 and a half months. But like I've been repeatedly told recently, I've come a full circle. But this time when we first met, you had your guard up, probably knowing that two people can never repeat the same mistake. Unassumingly.
You rendered yourself malleable. Let our interactions; physical, verbal and on so many other intangible levels, take their own course. I guess we've learnt not to stop and contain something real, and beautiful when it finds its way to you all on its own. We're not ashamed and we don't think ahead of ourselves. How could two people transform so much and not see it until the entire, drastic transformation has fully taken place, even while they've been in each others' peripheral vision the entire time?
I can call you a friend. And with such warmth, that I suddenly feel light. You're slowly guiding me through a crowd, while your hands stay firmly on either side of me. And you retract them just in time, so I don't get too dependent on the support system that you are. It's comfortable beyond measure, but it's all that you need to continue breathing. I look up to you when you level life out in front of me. I try deciphering why you push me so much for my own good, but stop short of trying too hard. I try understanding the amused laughter, when you push me around and get me childishly agitated.
I don't know why we can mould and emote and be ridiculous and laugh at how non-ridiculous it feels. I don't know how we end up in one place from another. I don't know how I can bear with you being obnoxious or how you can deal with little subsidiaries of my life. I don't know how we ended up there that night or how we continued feeling and becoming more and more a part of the already formed foundation. I just know that I don't want it to be taken away from me. Or for that matter, what I would ever do if it was.
I'm aware of what reaction every little action would illicit from you. There's something comforting in the knowledge that I can gauge, and eventually smile an understanding smile. The power that some invisible force of nature rendered to you, which enables you to reach out to me, before you really even do, is fascinating. I'm struck with wonder at the enormity of our emotions. Strangely enough, we don't feel the same things. If I tasted sour, you tasted sweet. If I leaned in, you stood strong, ready to embrace me. If I danced to self-composed tunes, you projected two left feet. If you said North, I'd run South. And such was how we lay perfect in our imperfections.
We're interlocked in a very fitting way. You make me whoever you want to make me whenever you want to, without changing the essence of me. And I enjoy the escapes from me. Especially because I can remember these experiences that almost seem like out-of-body ones. Sometimes what would work best would ensure that I could take you someplace else too, and I get the feeling that I already do. You have to admit that I have the power to do that. And the novelty of this all scares you out of your skin, and I can see it while I'm watching you watch me. It's unnerving but I'm filling these memories away because something tells me it's all I'm going to have left of you. And it's not much. But it should suffice.
Ever since you left, I felt like I've lost something special, something beautiful and something I didn't think I would ever have, only because it's so free of the shackles that usually accompany something so pristine. And you know what the worst part is about losing something that's like home to you? The fact that you know exactly when you've lost it and even worse, that you're going to be putting away the rest of your time on hold just waiting for it to return. After all, you're my home.
It's always have and never hold
You've begun to feel like home
What's mine is yours to leave or take
What's mine is yours to make your own
Be my baby
I'll look after you
You rendered yourself malleable. Let our interactions; physical, verbal and on so many other intangible levels, take their own course. I guess we've learnt not to stop and contain something real, and beautiful when it finds its way to you all on its own. We're not ashamed and we don't think ahead of ourselves. How could two people transform so much and not see it until the entire, drastic transformation has fully taken place, even while they've been in each others' peripheral vision the entire time?
I can call you a friend. And with such warmth, that I suddenly feel light. You're slowly guiding me through a crowd, while your hands stay firmly on either side of me. And you retract them just in time, so I don't get too dependent on the support system that you are. It's comfortable beyond measure, but it's all that you need to continue breathing. I look up to you when you level life out in front of me. I try deciphering why you push me so much for my own good, but stop short of trying too hard. I try understanding the amused laughter, when you push me around and get me childishly agitated.
I don't know why we can mould and emote and be ridiculous and laugh at how non-ridiculous it feels. I don't know how we end up in one place from another. I don't know how I can bear with you being obnoxious or how you can deal with little subsidiaries of my life. I don't know how we ended up there that night or how we continued feeling and becoming more and more a part of the already formed foundation. I just know that I don't want it to be taken away from me. Or for that matter, what I would ever do if it was.
I'm aware of what reaction every little action would illicit from you. There's something comforting in the knowledge that I can gauge, and eventually smile an understanding smile. The power that some invisible force of nature rendered to you, which enables you to reach out to me, before you really even do, is fascinating. I'm struck with wonder at the enormity of our emotions. Strangely enough, we don't feel the same things. If I tasted sour, you tasted sweet. If I leaned in, you stood strong, ready to embrace me. If I danced to self-composed tunes, you projected two left feet. If you said North, I'd run South. And such was how we lay perfect in our imperfections.
We're interlocked in a very fitting way. You make me whoever you want to make me whenever you want to, without changing the essence of me. And I enjoy the escapes from me. Especially because I can remember these experiences that almost seem like out-of-body ones. Sometimes what would work best would ensure that I could take you someplace else too, and I get the feeling that I already do. You have to admit that I have the power to do that. And the novelty of this all scares you out of your skin, and I can see it while I'm watching you watch me. It's unnerving but I'm filling these memories away because something tells me it's all I'm going to have left of you. And it's not much. But it should suffice.
Ever since you left, I felt like I've lost something special, something beautiful and something I didn't think I would ever have, only because it's so free of the shackles that usually accompany something so pristine. And you know what the worst part is about losing something that's like home to you? The fact that you know exactly when you've lost it and even worse, that you're going to be putting away the rest of your time on hold just waiting for it to return. After all, you're my home.
It's always have and never hold
You've begun to feel like home
What's mine is yours to leave or take
What's mine is yours to make your own
Be my baby
I'll look after you
Friday, August 17, 2012
Dear Saviours
Saviours,
Please don't look us deep in the eyes and tell us we're absolutely amazing. Don't seduce us, confuse us, and seduce us again. Don't tell us you enjoy our company and don't refuse to fight your tired eyes only so that you can spend a few more minutes with us. Don't tell us you love our little actions, like it makes you smile. Don't kiss us, like it's all you've ever wanted to do. Don't look at us and smile that smile that immediately softens our hearts. It makes us fall in love with you. Momentarily. Even when you don't know it. Don't make us bare our souls and then not judge us. Don't tell us that no matter how tough we are, you still want to stay and protect us. It makes us fall in love with you, just a little bit more. Don't be our best friends, lovers, or the ones we share an inside secret with, or an awkward hug with, or a shy smile with. Don't cook for us with that absolute confidence, even though we can't ourselves. Don't place your hands on our skin and make us jump out of our skins, every single time. Don't treat us like we need help. We don't. Don't change your minds. Just make up your minds. We love you.
Just don't.
And then do it all over again.
Love,
The Saved
Please don't look us deep in the eyes and tell us we're absolutely amazing. Don't seduce us, confuse us, and seduce us again. Don't tell us you enjoy our company and don't refuse to fight your tired eyes only so that you can spend a few more minutes with us. Don't tell us you love our little actions, like it makes you smile. Don't kiss us, like it's all you've ever wanted to do. Don't look at us and smile that smile that immediately softens our hearts. It makes us fall in love with you. Momentarily. Even when you don't know it. Don't make us bare our souls and then not judge us. Don't tell us that no matter how tough we are, you still want to stay and protect us. It makes us fall in love with you, just a little bit more. Don't be our best friends, lovers, or the ones we share an inside secret with, or an awkward hug with, or a shy smile with. Don't cook for us with that absolute confidence, even though we can't ourselves. Don't place your hands on our skin and make us jump out of our skins, every single time. Don't treat us like we need help. We don't. Don't change your minds. Just make up your minds. We love you.
Just don't.
And then do it all over again.
Love,
The Saved
Platonic
Platonic is too idealistic a word. No relationship can be entirely platonic. At some point of time, every woman keeps the guy she's with in that special place in her heart, tries to figure out if he fits. If he doesn't, best thing ever. If he does, things get screwed. But probably, she never made it to that place in his heart, the tipping point. She must have stopped an inch behind it. And even if she did reach it, she must've been a bad fit, and he wouldn't tell her how badly she had failed. She knew, she could never fit. She respected that, silently. She understood him, was vocal about it a lot.
She classified the men in her life into two water-tight chambers, the ones she was friends with, the rest she could ever be romantically inclined to. The former category was obviously for the ones like the rest of them, who failed the test or the ones who could never sit for it. The ones who always saw her suave, coy, never stayed beyond a time. The ones she was romantically inclined to, the ones who got to see her worst, see her for real. Even then, there wasn't any porosity allowed between the two chambers. She got scared if she doesn't hear from him all day, and that scared her hell-lot. Not that she was mad about him, or afraid that they would lose each other, but just that he had become a habit, a part of her day. And with the oscillations my psyche was victim to it, it felt comforting to have one companion that would stay.
She never exactly got to figure out his perception of her though. She never asked, the conversations strangely never took them on those lanes. It hurts to say that no man will affect her the way he does. He stayed shut.
But yeah, it hurts. Still does.
She classified the men in her life into two water-tight chambers, the ones she was friends with, the rest she could ever be romantically inclined to. The former category was obviously for the ones like the rest of them, who failed the test or the ones who could never sit for it. The ones who always saw her suave, coy, never stayed beyond a time. The ones she was romantically inclined to, the ones who got to see her worst, see her for real. Even then, there wasn't any porosity allowed between the two chambers. She got scared if she doesn't hear from him all day, and that scared her hell-lot. Not that she was mad about him, or afraid that they would lose each other, but just that he had become a habit, a part of her day. And with the oscillations my psyche was victim to it, it felt comforting to have one companion that would stay.
She never exactly got to figure out his perception of her though. She never asked, the conversations strangely never took them on those lanes. It hurts to say that no man will affect her the way he does. He stayed shut.
But yeah, it hurts. Still does.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
To My Sexhay Bear
Hey sexhay bear, come here. Come here and give me a big bear hug. God you're beautiful. You always give the best hugs ever. I know you're reading this now. And by the end of this post, you'll smile. A tiny bit. And you're going to send me a picture. Ka-pish? Okay, continue reading.
"Mmm so badly wanna rest my neck over yours n rumble like crazy."
"*giggles*
Snuggled up, sharing lazy kisses, you kissed me on my nose, and for that split second, even while you were looking at me, my heart could just explode into a million, tiny, ecstatic pieces.
"Not on my stach baby it's irritating. I removed less than an inch what, less than a cm, so u shouldn't like me lesser that much. It's like two mm only."
"Don't think so. You were hairier."
Two mm. My bum bum, did you measure the length of hair you removed. If so, I'll bow down. I tell you I hated we always have this conversation right after an episode of shaving. But I secretly loved them. Secretly loved. Love, hate, passion. That's how we roll. No mush, and then so much of it. Secret kisses. Secret hand-holding. Secret flings at you-know-where. Only we knew how that felt. It's how we used to roll. Mock fighting, upsetting, mushy apologies, making up. I love you so much it hurts. The alarms that cornered, semi-opened eyelids, and lazy non-stretched body falling back into bed, tangled legs, back into a reverie.
"U love me too much rite that's why. But won't hold that against you. I mean what can u do if I'm too amaze-balls rite huh? That u can't help fallin madly for me."
"Fine fine. I'll fall out of love with you then. Don't know about tomorrow, but I love you today. And yesterday. And all the days before that."
Trembling feet, dreamy eyes, and a strong wish to dissolve. You wouldn't let me do that. You know the hold you have over me. Your sly smile said it all. Every single time. You were really enjoying this.
"I hate you. Still hate you. I hate your stupid smile, I hate your silly charm, and most of all I hate the ridic thing you do with your eyes. Those eyes... Your beautiful eyes."
I can claim to hate you. Hate you with all the willpower that I have. So much that I'll form a bubble that shields me, gives me false hopes of protection. But then you come and put an arm around me. Pull my cheeks. Rub your hair all over me. And basically take a needle and prick my bubble. Now that's why I love to hate you. Or hate to love you.
"Don't be mad. I won't leave you here all by yourself. I'll stay here with you."
We sat on the boardwalks. Who knew it would be this beautiful in the wee hours in the morning? There was so much to say and so much to hear. But we couldn't push away the inevitable. I really wanted you to stay, trust me I did. You told stories. I listened. Little rendezvous. Threw a coin. Yours. You should know by now what I wished for. Or rather, who.
Hey sexhay bear, there you are again. With that amazing smile of yours. Still want to eat that face. Grrr. Don't let there be any doubts. I love you. And I always will. In some twisted, unexplained way. I'm waiting here patiently to welcome you back to the madness. Must. Be. Strong. Hold me by the waist. Shut me up with a kiss. Laugh at me, let me sulk, and then give me such a look, that look, that I forgive murder. Keep me where all I can breathe is you. Trust me, that all I want is you.
*rubs nose*
"Mmm so badly wanna rest my neck over yours n rumble like crazy."
"*giggles*
Snuggled up, sharing lazy kisses, you kissed me on my nose, and for that split second, even while you were looking at me, my heart could just explode into a million, tiny, ecstatic pieces.
"Not on my stach baby it's irritating. I removed less than an inch what, less than a cm, so u shouldn't like me lesser that much. It's like two mm only."
"Don't think so. You were hairier."
Two mm. My bum bum, did you measure the length of hair you removed. If so, I'll bow down. I tell you I hated we always have this conversation right after an episode of shaving. But I secretly loved them. Secretly loved. Love, hate, passion. That's how we roll. No mush, and then so much of it. Secret kisses. Secret hand-holding. Secret flings at you-know-where. Only we knew how that felt. It's how we used to roll. Mock fighting, upsetting, mushy apologies, making up. I love you so much it hurts. The alarms that cornered, semi-opened eyelids, and lazy non-stretched body falling back into bed, tangled legs, back into a reverie.
"U love me too much rite that's why. But won't hold that against you. I mean what can u do if I'm too amaze-balls rite huh? That u can't help fallin madly for me."
"Fine fine. I'll fall out of love with you then. Don't know about tomorrow, but I love you today. And yesterday. And all the days before that."
Trembling feet, dreamy eyes, and a strong wish to dissolve. You wouldn't let me do that. You know the hold you have over me. Your sly smile said it all. Every single time. You were really enjoying this.
"I hate you. Still hate you. I hate your stupid smile, I hate your silly charm, and most of all I hate the ridic thing you do with your eyes. Those eyes... Your beautiful eyes."
I can claim to hate you. Hate you with all the willpower that I have. So much that I'll form a bubble that shields me, gives me false hopes of protection. But then you come and put an arm around me. Pull my cheeks. Rub your hair all over me. And basically take a needle and prick my bubble. Now that's why I love to hate you. Or hate to love you.
"Don't be mad. I won't leave you here all by yourself. I'll stay here with you."
We sat on the boardwalks. Who knew it would be this beautiful in the wee hours in the morning? There was so much to say and so much to hear. But we couldn't push away the inevitable. I really wanted you to stay, trust me I did. You told stories. I listened. Little rendezvous. Threw a coin. Yours. You should know by now what I wished for. Or rather, who.
Hey sexhay bear, there you are again. With that amazing smile of yours. Still want to eat that face. Grrr. Don't let there be any doubts. I love you. And I always will. In some twisted, unexplained way. I'm waiting here patiently to welcome you back to the madness. Must. Be. Strong. Hold me by the waist. Shut me up with a kiss. Laugh at me, let me sulk, and then give me such a look, that look, that I forgive murder. Keep me where all I can breathe is you. Trust me, that all I want is you.
*rubs nose*
Sunday, August 12, 2012
From Your Bum Bum, With Love
To my bum bum,
I swear, just as I typed that, a gush of warmth went through me, and a cloud of tears blurred my laptop screen. Yes, you did. I think you're the one that brought this about in the first place, so in a way, you are to blame. When I first met you, in my long black dress, I didn't feel any sparks. I didn't think we were going to ever even share a morning with a cup of coffee, let alone sob stories, most cherished memories, laughter and complete lives. If I had to pick my own teacher, someone who could guide me through everything even when I just didn't want to budge, it would be you. It would be your incomprehensible bundle of energy, warmth and adrenaline that makes you so full of life, so brutally honest, so perfect that you would pick out your own flaws and sit with them for days with a needle and thread and then pick ours up for all the serious patchwork to be done. And once you were done, we shone bright, because you picked the prettier embellishments for me. But somehow you were the most gorgeous, I don't understand how that worked. When I picked you right after him, I was jealous because you got to be the my most favorite character. But I'd only let you have it. Because truth be told, you're a much better character than even he could ever be. Also because he was the one that smacked me hard when I had tears pouring down my face, he was the one that told me to stop feeling sorry for myself, he was the one who didn't hold my hand and let everything happen, alcohol being the only excuse. You're the better character. And just thought you should know, I'm taking you and your strength, gonna store it in one big chunk of me. Yes, you can be the cuter one. Forever.
I look at you and I'm calmed. Soothed. And somehow, I feel sheltered and protected. Even though, I just want to drop everything and shield you every time I can see something approach you, anything even mildly capable of altering your nature, and more often than not I see it much before you do. You're transitional, dear sunshine, but I want to know how you still manage to hold your own. I'm mystified and charmed by your capacity to keep everything bottled up and not let it spill out of the safe valve that you keep it in, out into an audience that would never appreciate and understand the intricacies of so many things close to your heart. I'm glad that you picked me as one of the recipients, me! Because your stories, your thoughts, your concerns, your dreams are precious. And I don't understand how nobody saw that before. I could have you around me and my mundane life for days, months, and years to end without feeling the need to fill the gaps of silence with any words. But I would probably burst into uncontrollable tears the moment you were removed. You are my rock with a mind of its own, and you know when to boost me and when to bring me down and somehow amidst all the smoke, people, the city that's our launch-pad, and the emotions that are our backbone, you managed to trick me into making you my favorite song, just the one that I'm always going to remember. Be transitional, but please don't shift, because I won't know where to find you.
Your mad, intense
bum bum
I swear, just as I typed that, a gush of warmth went through me, and a cloud of tears blurred my laptop screen. Yes, you did. I think you're the one that brought this about in the first place, so in a way, you are to blame. When I first met you, in my long black dress, I didn't feel any sparks. I didn't think we were going to ever even share a morning with a cup of coffee, let alone sob stories, most cherished memories, laughter and complete lives. If I had to pick my own teacher, someone who could guide me through everything even when I just didn't want to budge, it would be you. It would be your incomprehensible bundle of energy, warmth and adrenaline that makes you so full of life, so brutally honest, so perfect that you would pick out your own flaws and sit with them for days with a needle and thread and then pick ours up for all the serious patchwork to be done. And once you were done, we shone bright, because you picked the prettier embellishments for me. But somehow you were the most gorgeous, I don't understand how that worked. When I picked you right after him, I was jealous because you got to be the my most favorite character. But I'd only let you have it. Because truth be told, you're a much better character than even he could ever be. Also because he was the one that smacked me hard when I had tears pouring down my face, he was the one that told me to stop feeling sorry for myself, he was the one who didn't hold my hand and let everything happen, alcohol being the only excuse. You're the better character. And just thought you should know, I'm taking you and your strength, gonna store it in one big chunk of me. Yes, you can be the cuter one. Forever.
I look at you and I'm calmed. Soothed. And somehow, I feel sheltered and protected. Even though, I just want to drop everything and shield you every time I can see something approach you, anything even mildly capable of altering your nature, and more often than not I see it much before you do. You're transitional, dear sunshine, but I want to know how you still manage to hold your own. I'm mystified and charmed by your capacity to keep everything bottled up and not let it spill out of the safe valve that you keep it in, out into an audience that would never appreciate and understand the intricacies of so many things close to your heart. I'm glad that you picked me as one of the recipients, me! Because your stories, your thoughts, your concerns, your dreams are precious. And I don't understand how nobody saw that before. I could have you around me and my mundane life for days, months, and years to end without feeling the need to fill the gaps of silence with any words. But I would probably burst into uncontrollable tears the moment you were removed. You are my rock with a mind of its own, and you know when to boost me and when to bring me down and somehow amidst all the smoke, people, the city that's our launch-pad, and the emotions that are our backbone, you managed to trick me into making you my favorite song, just the one that I'm always going to remember. Be transitional, but please don't shift, because I won't know where to find you.
Your mad, intense
bum bum
Into The Sunset
You make me smile.
From that early morning message,
to that silly joke.
From that giggly poke,
to that sudden kiss.
You make me smile on the inside.
We sit and dream together.
Intoxicated, we laugh at the castles we built on clouds,
some blue, some pink.
And then it rains, and rains, and rains non-stop.
And we don't seem to need anything else.
Perfectly content.
We watch a scary movie,
only so we can kiss in the dark.
And then we look into each other's eyes and burst out laughing.
Because the seriousness is funny.
I'd peck you on the nose,
while looking into your beautiful, beautiful eyes.
Then suddenly I feel like melting into you.
When I flicker back at 4 am.
I like you there.
Tangled up in me,
while the sun streamed down through water droplets like crystals.
Such that you glowed.
I was so happy.
White froth crashing against the sea rocks,
under a blue sky I can't name.
You take in my scent,
and try to be discreet.
Might as well have inhaled me.
I want to wear a tiara,
I want to paint unicorns,
but purple.
I want to lay back and watch the parakeets gliding,
and maybe hold your hand.
Macaroons and Ben & Jerry's.
Take me away.
Someplace we can do all of it and not be watched.
We run and we run and we never stop.
I'm smiling again.
And I don't wanna stop feeling it, thinking it, or saying it.
I have a feeling I make you smile.
From that early morning message,
to that silly joke.
From that giggly poke,
to that sudden kiss.
You make me smile on the inside.
We sit and dream together.
Intoxicated, we laugh at the castles we built on clouds,
some blue, some pink.
And then it rains, and rains, and rains non-stop.
And we don't seem to need anything else.
Perfectly content.
We watch a scary movie,
only so we can kiss in the dark.
And then we look into each other's eyes and burst out laughing.
Because the seriousness is funny.
I'd peck you on the nose,
while looking into your beautiful, beautiful eyes.
Then suddenly I feel like melting into you.
When I flicker back at 4 am.
I like you there.
Tangled up in me,
while the sun streamed down through water droplets like crystals.
Such that you glowed.
I was so happy.
White froth crashing against the sea rocks,
under a blue sky I can't name.
You take in my scent,
and try to be discreet.
Might as well have inhaled me.
I want to wear a tiara,
I want to paint unicorns,
but purple.
I want to lay back and watch the parakeets gliding,
and maybe hold your hand.
Macaroons and Ben & Jerry's.
Take me away.
Someplace we can do all of it and not be watched.
We run and we run and we never stop.
I'm smiling again.
And I don't wanna stop feeling it, thinking it, or saying it.
I have a feeling I make you smile.
City Lights
You want to chase your dreams. Those glittering city lights out there, the people you want to know, the things you want to do, the futures you could have, freedom so strong you can taste it.
Come. Leave with me. Leave everything behind.
For a beautiful girl.
Come. Leave with me. Leave everything behind.
For a beautiful girl.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Saleh
Being influenced comes easy. Even now. Vices, even vices drive me nuts. They addict me. To almost a point of no return. That point of no return, where onward I begin to worship, believe in, and love, without reason. Such love, attraction and intoxication is an uncertainty pertaining to my grand scheme of plans, shouldn't deny. And vices and the like apart, you are a man.
You could be a dream. And I could love you only for the assumptions I have of you. Without any considerations. You look alright to me. Good rather. And I love your smile. God, I adore your smile. I adore it so much that it makes my inner being beam. In the few seconds your face flexes into a smile, it's like each and every bit of you is happy. Oozing with joy. In those few seconds, I wonder how could anyone, ever impersonate such honest an emotion. Your smile is so pure, it makes me want to tell you how I feel about it. Like I said, it drives me crazy. But in a good way though.
And I should be shameless to feel anything like this about anyone. Now. After everything. It's almost ridiculous. And I wish I could get help. You could be a dream after all. And not the person of my future. Not the man I see behind the face, the gentle humility. And all that. But seriously, you're like a delicious slice of chocolate eclair. I find you too sweet to swallow because I am already floored the moment you touch the tip of my tongue.
It couldn't be the naughty teenage infatuation. It shouldn't be. Because that would mean I have regressed. Or I haven't evolved. At all. But I wonder if we ever do. I still feel like that butterfly-in-my-stomach seventeen year old. In the few seconds, I just stand here and admire you. God, that smile.
Saleh. Saleh. Saleh.
You could be a dream. And I could love you only for the assumptions I have of you. Without any considerations. You look alright to me. Good rather. And I love your smile. God, I adore your smile. I adore it so much that it makes my inner being beam. In the few seconds your face flexes into a smile, it's like each and every bit of you is happy. Oozing with joy. In those few seconds, I wonder how could anyone, ever impersonate such honest an emotion. Your smile is so pure, it makes me want to tell you how I feel about it. Like I said, it drives me crazy. But in a good way though.
And I should be shameless to feel anything like this about anyone. Now. After everything. It's almost ridiculous. And I wish I could get help. You could be a dream after all. And not the person of my future. Not the man I see behind the face, the gentle humility. And all that. But seriously, you're like a delicious slice of chocolate eclair. I find you too sweet to swallow because I am already floored the moment you touch the tip of my tongue.
It couldn't be the naughty teenage infatuation. It shouldn't be. Because that would mean I have regressed. Or I haven't evolved. At all. But I wonder if we ever do. I still feel like that butterfly-in-my-stomach seventeen year old. In the few seconds, I just stand here and admire you. God, that smile.
Saleh. Saleh. Saleh.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Vis-à-vis
My love is sacred, it's outrageously passionate. It's irrational and uncompromising.
Your love is moody. It switches between maddening heights and unknown depths, it kills me when it does that, both ways.
My love is pathetically protective of you, yours is nameless.
My love paralyzes me, it is as unconditional as unconditional could get, it doesn't crave for your response, yet it does.
You hold me hostage, you dictate my mind's every move.
I don't matter to you, you follow the faceless.
Your love is divine, mine is human, very human.
I need you and you are insatiable.
I stay up like an insane insomniac, watching you sleep.
You are a rock, while I explode to your every touch.
It's badly lopsided...
My love is love.
And yours is not.
Your love is moody. It switches between maddening heights and unknown depths, it kills me when it does that, both ways.
My love is pathetically protective of you, yours is nameless.
My love paralyzes me, it is as unconditional as unconditional could get, it doesn't crave for your response, yet it does.
You hold me hostage, you dictate my mind's every move.
I don't matter to you, you follow the faceless.
Your love is divine, mine is human, very human.
I need you and you are insatiable.
I stay up like an insane insomniac, watching you sleep.
You are a rock, while I explode to your every touch.
It's badly lopsided...
My love is love.
And yours is not.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Oeuvre
Two bodies lip-locked in an eternal conversation, wish to delay the arrival of morning
Because staring into the dark of the night, they can't meet each other's eyes. All they can feel is flesh. The light through the window, will spill their secrets and make them vulnerable. In the morning, they would find in each other's eyes, the reflection of their curtailed soul. Now they yearn for a prolonged darkness, a refuge for their troubled desires, ravenous desires. And as long as the night lasts, they hold on to each other for dear life, and shut their eyes, and make love...
Two bodies lip-locked in an eternal conversation, wish to delay the arrival of morning...
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Last Man Standing
Will you be my Last Man Standing? My last first love. Will you? Please. Because the day I fell for you, I had made myself a quiet promise that you would be the one. The One for me. And after you, no man would lure me ever, an inch away from where I am. And I was right in your arms. Thinking of you all the time. Kissing castles in the air, making dreams with you. Bum bum! I had asked all those forces of destiny, if they exist, to give you to me. Thrown a couple of coins. I wanted you, and wanted me to belong to you even more. I envy that surety. I doubt I could have it again in life. The dire intensity of the craving, makes me gasp for my breath even now. I had never wanted anything like that. Hadn't the courage to. Don't know what was with you though.
But now things have changed, and as they say "There is no point in it." Hanging on to illusions, supposing them to be truths, wanting them to be truths. There is no point in it. So, for one last time, I have one thing to ask of you.
Will you be my Last Man Standing? The last one I ever loved. Will you leave memories and pain so strong that I would never incline towards the candy-floss fantasies of love. Will you? Please! Let this be my parting gift. Last so long in my heart as is needed to make love an impossibility. Help me hold that quiet promise I made to myself when you happened. This would mean the most to me.
Be my Last Man Standing. You will, wouldn't you!
But now things have changed, and as they say "There is no point in it." Hanging on to illusions, supposing them to be truths, wanting them to be truths. There is no point in it. So, for one last time, I have one thing to ask of you.
Will you be my Last Man Standing? The last one I ever loved. Will you leave memories and pain so strong that I would never incline towards the candy-floss fantasies of love. Will you? Please! Let this be my parting gift. Last so long in my heart as is needed to make love an impossibility. Help me hold that quiet promise I made to myself when you happened. This would mean the most to me.
Be my Last Man Standing. You will, wouldn't you!
Pause
Our afternoons
the smell of coffee
couches and cable
noises of children playing outside
Our nights
flickering flame
whispers traded, shared
sighs, breaths & darkness
Our mornings
dew drops on windows
new hopes
a harmless hurry, impatience
Our evenings
a nearing shroud of night
I, watching you ride off
craving to be together with you, again
Us
and our times.
the smell of coffee
couches and cable
noises of children playing outside
Our nights
flickering flame
whispers traded, shared
sighs, breaths & darkness
Our mornings
dew drops on windows
new hopes
a harmless hurry, impatience
Our evenings
a nearing shroud of night
I, watching you ride off
craving to be together with you, again
Us
and our times.
Solo
The way I look for you in crowded streets in the morning rush, the way I scan faces in men on bikes passing by hoping one could be yours, on rainy nights, wanting to see you by the turn of the road, drenched, probably wanting to be found by me, my life has become dangerously entwined around yours. But the glitch is that I have learned to live with this. Gotten used to breathing sans you. Waiting for you, and never watching you arrive. The need inside me is so persistent that it is almost like a limb. It is so obvious that I do not notice it. You do not notice it.
This is a new stage for us. All those unsent letters in your name, lying in forgotten folders, are testimony still. Always will be, to my madness. To the craving that still drives me insane. But I know, you aren't mine. Never to be. Because loneliness is my sole benefactor. This acceptance is my genius. Being far from you has seasoned me to live by myself. I had to learn to bow down and let go.
But on days like these, when I return to empty rooms after tiring days, of endless searches of looking for you amongst the unknown, I know that I will find you, one day I will. Because you are mine. I have kept you as mine. And that nothing should do me apart from you. Not even you. No matter where you go, you will come back to me. To take me along.
I don't know why. I think I love you.
Maybe I am just crazy. One wish every few days. Let me live with it. Let me live without.
This is a new stage for us. All those unsent letters in your name, lying in forgotten folders, are testimony still. Always will be, to my madness. To the craving that still drives me insane. But I know, you aren't mine. Never to be. Because loneliness is my sole benefactor. This acceptance is my genius. Being far from you has seasoned me to live by myself. I had to learn to bow down and let go.
But on days like these, when I return to empty rooms after tiring days, of endless searches of looking for you amongst the unknown, I know that I will find you, one day I will. Because you are mine. I have kept you as mine. And that nothing should do me apart from you. Not even you. No matter where you go, you will come back to me. To take me along.
I don't know why. I think I love you.
Maybe I am just crazy. One wish every few days. Let me live with it. Let me live without.
Touch Me Again
Don't rob me of my high, w'd you?
Let me lie this way,
In your shadow
Among cheap untruths.
For once,
Let me savour
This fantasy with shut eyes
The fragrance of bottled cologne.
Stay
Should I want to feel
The texture of your touch again,
Later tonight.
Hold on
Draw dreams in my head
As I capture the warmth of your breath
For cold nights to come
Push me
Off the edge of this cliff
Make me want to fly
Together, alone
And when need be,
Touch me again
Let me lie this way,
In your shadow
Among cheap untruths.
For once,
Let me savour
This fantasy with shut eyes
The fragrance of bottled cologne.
Stay
Should I want to feel
The texture of your touch again,
Later tonight.
Hold on
Draw dreams in my head
As I capture the warmth of your breath
For cold nights to come
Push me
Off the edge of this cliff
Make me want to fly
Together, alone
And when need be,
Touch me again
Thy Eyes
It's that thing you do. With your eyes. Eyes never lie. Eyes cannot lie. Through them, I can stare at your insides. I get to read your intentions so well. Sometimes I wonder if I get you sooner than you get yourself.
My peripheral view has a wider horizon than you think. I can sense you looking at me no matter what corner of the room you're in. It's like my skin has these hyper sensitive sensors fixed, just for thy eyes. The way you steal furtive glances, imagining that no one's looking. But I am. Each time you shift your eyes from me, probably you don't realize, but there is this brief moment when our eyes meet. And I see uncertainty in yours. Do you see thirst in mine?
Forget instants. For longer whiles, in dark secluded rooms. When your eyes move on me, on above me, feeding on my every inch, I know which are the stretchers your eyes hold on to. For units of time I count in heart-beats. And though I am not looking at you, I know. I know the exact stratum of intoxication you're in.
But of all things, I love most about your eyes is the curiosity in them. The way you look at me every time like I was anew. Like you've just found me.
My peripheral view has a wider horizon than you think. I can sense you looking at me no matter what corner of the room you're in. It's like my skin has these hyper sensitive sensors fixed, just for thy eyes. The way you steal furtive glances, imagining that no one's looking. But I am. Each time you shift your eyes from me, probably you don't realize, but there is this brief moment when our eyes meet. And I see uncertainty in yours. Do you see thirst in mine?
Forget instants. For longer whiles, in dark secluded rooms. When your eyes move on me, on above me, feeding on my every inch, I know which are the stretchers your eyes hold on to. For units of time I count in heart-beats. And though I am not looking at you, I know. I know the exact stratum of intoxication you're in.
But of all things, I love most about your eyes is the curiosity in them. The way you look at me every time like I was anew. Like you've just found me.
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