Dear Saleh,
I want you to understand. I've loved you today, yesterday and all the days before this. You were the best thing that have happened to me in a very long time. Thank you for everything. I appreciate and acknowledge all the times, moments and pleasures that we shared together. I hope you find what you're looking for. Please don't be afraid to let people in. Sometimes, all they ever wanted was the best for you, I promise. Today isn't goodbye, but a premature farewell. When the time comes, I want you to be happy. It would mean the world to me seeing a smile on your face. Be very safe, always. Good luck, my sweetheart, my sexhay bear, my baby. :)
Yours for the last time,
Fyy
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
I Think It's Time We Stop Pretending That You Didn't Break My Heart
I am whispering. It feels so long. I am forgetting how you sound. Your voice is a wisp of vague recollections. I crunch up my face to remember, in vain. Your laugh no longer haunts me. Your thoughts are seldom visitors and have learned to knock. Your words don't make sense and I can no longer connect with them. Is this sad? I wouldn't know. I have stopped feeling.
I think of you. From time to time. But emotions don't well up anymore. And there are no tears to fight back. My heart doesn't hurt. It continues pumping nonchalantly, doing the required. The bare minimum. It's tired. Tired of all the sleepless nights and the broken beats. Burdened. Vexed. Weakened. Scared.
I spent a little part of the night out in the balcony. In my sleeping bag. It was cold. And my cardigan smelled of you. I could see the stars. I think I missed you then. In that moment. When the melancholia sliced through my skin and the moon shone despondently over me, trying to stop the bleeding. Annoyed. Give me a smile, everything around me seemed to say. But you are not here. And it feels a waste to even try.
You don't have a clue.
What it's like to be next to you
And I am here to tell you
That it is good
That it is true.
And we are talking through the hours. About corporate attire, interviews and being too choosy. I am pretending to be miffed. But I am not. I can't remember the last time I was this happy. It's night. And you are wonderful company. But you know that already.
You are such a miracle to me.
I wish there were more just like you.
You are not like all the others
And that is why I love you
Are you ma raison d'etre? Am I on the wrong track? Will I meet anyone like you? Everyone needs to be somebody. Everyone needs to find someone who cares. I don't know if you know what I mean...
I want to be dissolved into this night. It is too beautiful to not want to be a part of. I want to disappear into its opaque curtains. I want to be lifted from myself and taken far away. Or maybe I just want to disintegrate into little molecules and float through the air and away. I have always wanted to be in more than one place at a time. And standing with one foot across the border just won't do it for me.
That look you give that girl you're in love with.
I wanna see
Looking right at me.
When I go to bed, I dream of you. And when I wake up I dream some more. It's quiet at your side of the world. I wonder what's happening. You miss me. I know. You don't have to say it and you won't. You miss the laughter. The witty banter. The random journeys. The shared dreams. On nights like these, I miss you too. But you don't know.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Sing Me To Sleep
Sing me to sleep, sing me to sleep... I'm tired and I want to go to bed.. There is a certain kind of unexplained pain, in loving you. Something which I can't put to words. Something new, and terrifying. Something about a shattered night and blue stars shivering. About how I love you and sometimes, you love me too. And tonight, I am one of those stars, indistinguishable, distant, shivering. Alone.
Sing me to sleep, sing me to sleep... sing to me, sing to me, I don't want to wake up on my own any more. But I couldn't get myself to smile when you talked about a better world. And all I could think about was a place where we will be someday, without each other, without the memories. Without love. And I just couldn't get myself to smile for you. And I continued to watch the patterns forming on the wall, drifting away.
You tell me that my love is too much for now. But sometimes, I think about how it might be, to run into you some day. A year, few or ten from now. To walk through a supermarket aisle and find you standing at the other end, pondering over a choice of yogurt and holding the hand of someone else.
Our eyes would meet for an instance and I would look away and back, not sure if it really was you. Because I would often find your face in a crowd and in places you had no reason to be. You would take a step towards me, and then another. But the woman would yank at your sleeves and pull you away. And I would feel the pain I am feeling now, as I turn around and walk away.
And I would start crying silently, as I run back home in the pouring rain. But you wouldn't come to me and whisper sweet nothings till I start smiling into your shirt. Because someone else stains your whites with their mascara now. And I wish you could just sing me to sleep.. sing me to sleep... because I am tired and I want to go to bed.
Sing me to sleep, sing me to sleep... sing to me, sing to me, I don't want to wake up on my own any more. But I couldn't get myself to smile when you talked about a better world. And all I could think about was a place where we will be someday, without each other, without the memories. Without love. And I just couldn't get myself to smile for you. And I continued to watch the patterns forming on the wall, drifting away.
You tell me that my love is too much for now. But sometimes, I think about how it might be, to run into you some day. A year, few or ten from now. To walk through a supermarket aisle and find you standing at the other end, pondering over a choice of yogurt and holding the hand of someone else.
Our eyes would meet for an instance and I would look away and back, not sure if it really was you. Because I would often find your face in a crowd and in places you had no reason to be. You would take a step towards me, and then another. But the woman would yank at your sleeves and pull you away. And I would feel the pain I am feeling now, as I turn around and walk away.
And I would start crying silently, as I run back home in the pouring rain. But you wouldn't come to me and whisper sweet nothings till I start smiling into your shirt. Because someone else stains your whites with their mascara now. And I wish you could just sing me to sleep.. sing me to sleep... because I am tired and I want to go to bed.
I Will Never Let Anyone Touch Me The Way You Did
Somehow with him, she is not so angry. Not so fearful.
This is love and all she knows of it - sometimes it hurts, and sometimes it is wonderful, and sometimes it is strange and mostly it is beyond understanding and overwhelming.
This is the only way she knows how to love - resting her head on his shoulder, wearing his shirts to bed, writing her heart out in posts, using endearments she has never uttered before, recognizing despair in his voice and weeping for him, giving him all of herself.
The only way she knows how to be - his.
She has spent her whole life around love, wanting it, needing it, seeking it, waiting for it, feeling it, losing it and sometimes she wonders if she has ever before known what it is.
I was sitting by the window sobbing last night. I was thinking of that man I dreamt of all those years ago. He would want nothing more than he wanted me. He would understand what was inside me. He would untangle those endless intricate knots at my core simply by being himself.
But most of all, he would not have to break me to love me. He would not wait till my tears flowed. He would sense my pain in the way I said his name. He would know that if you sliced away all the layers of my anger, you would only find someone hurting.
He would not have to break me to love me. He would love me anyway.
I sat by the window and sobbed and remembered, you take care of yourself. No one takes care of you. No one should have to. You are your own responsibility. You heal yourself.
This is love and all she knows of it - sometimes it hurts, and sometimes it is wonderful, and sometimes it is strange and mostly it is beyond understanding and overwhelming.
This is the only way she knows how to love - resting her head on his shoulder, wearing his shirts to bed, writing her heart out in posts, using endearments she has never uttered before, recognizing despair in his voice and weeping for him, giving him all of herself.
The only way she knows how to be - his.
She has spent her whole life around love, wanting it, needing it, seeking it, waiting for it, feeling it, losing it and sometimes she wonders if she has ever before known what it is.
I was sitting by the window sobbing last night. I was thinking of that man I dreamt of all those years ago. He would want nothing more than he wanted me. He would understand what was inside me. He would untangle those endless intricate knots at my core simply by being himself.
But most of all, he would not have to break me to love me. He would not wait till my tears flowed. He would sense my pain in the way I said his name. He would know that if you sliced away all the layers of my anger, you would only find someone hurting.
He would not have to break me to love me. He would love me anyway.
I sat by the window and sobbed and remembered, you take care of yourself. No one takes care of you. No one should have to. You are your own responsibility. You heal yourself.
I will never let anyone touch me the way you did.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Can You Make It Feel Like Home If I Tell You You're Mine
You don't ever think of waking up to me, of coming home and looking forward to seeing me, glancing at your dressing table and seeing my make up and perfumes cluttering one end of it, knowing that the pillow on my side on my side will smell like my shampoo, catching my eye and seeing me smile almost shyly in a fogged up bathroom mirror. These things don't mean anything to you...do they?
She hoped so much she was wrong. She was a fool.
I want to close my eyes and disappear behind my eyelids for a few weeks. I just want to find a place to sit under the sky and I would walk and sit and lie down in the rain for hours and let it all be washed away. I would sit at night under that monument and look at the horizon of city lights marking those millions of people out there who are all struggling in one way or the other. The horizon of a city that would belong to me in a way it belonged to no one else.
I want to walk huddled against the bitterly cold wind and the snow by myself, walk for hours, until my mind is overwhelmed and blank with exhaustion. I want there to be absolute silence, so when I finally speak, I hear myself. So when I finally speak, I know myself.
I would learn to be alone again.
Loneliness is the human condition. No one is ever going to fill that space. The best you can do is know yourself... know what you want.
I worry sometimes I have nothing left to give to someone new. I have given it all to you. Should the need arise, will you return it to me please?
She hoped so much she was wrong. She was a fool.
I want to close my eyes and disappear behind my eyelids for a few weeks. I just want to find a place to sit under the sky and I would walk and sit and lie down in the rain for hours and let it all be washed away. I would sit at night under that monument and look at the horizon of city lights marking those millions of people out there who are all struggling in one way or the other. The horizon of a city that would belong to me in a way it belonged to no one else.
I want to walk huddled against the bitterly cold wind and the snow by myself, walk for hours, until my mind is overwhelmed and blank with exhaustion. I want there to be absolute silence, so when I finally speak, I hear myself. So when I finally speak, I know myself.
I would learn to be alone again.
Loneliness is the human condition. No one is ever going to fill that space. The best you can do is know yourself... know what you want.
I worry sometimes I have nothing left to give to someone new. I have given it all to you. Should the need arise, will you return it to me please?
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
I Want To Chase My Dreams
Were it possible that I was your dream.
The one from which all others were borne.
The one that gave all others their meaning.
The one that reminded you of who you are.
Who you are meant to be.
If only.
What is love, when you love so cautiously? Careful not to lose yourself. Careful not to hurt yourself. Careful with your heart. Careful with what you give me. Careful with what you trust me with.
Stop the hurt.
Did I tell you he loved her. Some part of him always has and always will.
Did I tell you he used to beat her. For years before we could stop him.
Did I tell you how much she loved him. Even today and I wish sometimes I could stop her.
Did I tell you what it is like to watch them break apart in front of your very eyes, your terrified eyes and your shaking unsure hands.
Did I tell you when I cry, I think of her and I cry harder, because if that can happen to someone so young and beautiful and innocent and virtuous - think of what will happen to me.
Did I tell you.
All this unsaid pain.
I forgot that important lesson. I once told you, how painstakingly I learnt it. I forgot again but now I recall. This is what it was; no matter what you do for, or how much of yourself you give to someone, you never earn the right to expect from them.
Never expect.
I want to chase my dreams. Those glittering city lights out there, the people I want to know, the things I want to do, the futures I could have, freedom so strong I can taste it.
But I would give them up to be with you.
That does not make me weak.
Only foolishly in love.
May you have everything you have ever dreamt of. Good luck, darling.
The one from which all others were borne.
The one that gave all others their meaning.
The one that reminded you of who you are.
Who you are meant to be.
If only.
What is love, when you love so cautiously? Careful not to lose yourself. Careful not to hurt yourself. Careful with your heart. Careful with what you give me. Careful with what you trust me with.
Stop the hurt.
Did I tell you he loved her. Some part of him always has and always will.
Did I tell you he used to beat her. For years before we could stop him.
Did I tell you how much she loved him. Even today and I wish sometimes I could stop her.
Did I tell you what it is like to watch them break apart in front of your very eyes, your terrified eyes and your shaking unsure hands.
Did I tell you when I cry, I think of her and I cry harder, because if that can happen to someone so young and beautiful and innocent and virtuous - think of what will happen to me.
Did I tell you.
All this unsaid pain.
I forgot that important lesson. I once told you, how painstakingly I learnt it. I forgot again but now I recall. This is what it was; no matter what you do for, or how much of yourself you give to someone, you never earn the right to expect from them.
Never expect.
I want to chase my dreams. Those glittering city lights out there, the people I want to know, the things I want to do, the futures I could have, freedom so strong I can taste it.
But I would give them up to be with you.
That does not make me weak.
Only foolishly in love.
May you have everything you have ever dreamt of. Good luck, darling.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
About A Boy
Watching him, was one of her favourite occupations.
She would watch him as he walked around the house -
after his shower, his towel wrapped around his waist, and looking sexy in it,
putting on his sarong, sighing and humming as he did so.
She became a connoisseur of his body - transfixed, obsessed even;
She needed his company, his reassurance, his presence.
All day he was different, his numerous moods transforming his look,
and she followed them, indeed lived in them, as a woman irrevocably in love with a man.
She would watch him as he walked around the house -
after his shower, his towel wrapped around his waist, and looking sexy in it,
putting on his sarong, sighing and humming as he did so.
She became a connoisseur of his body - transfixed, obsessed even;
She needed his company, his reassurance, his presence.
All day he was different, his numerous moods transforming his look,
and she followed them, indeed lived in them, as a woman irrevocably in love with a man.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
See-Through
City lights don't consume the fireflies. A sky dotted with stars appears to end in the horizon, miles away from here. The endless night seems to be ours entirely.
Mornings. Circles of smoke rise from our mouths, peacefully. We watch them merge and diverge. Play little games, between themselves. And form shadows on our naked thighs. Even smoke isn't see-through. We gape at its translucence. And then, at each other. Our immaculately complicated opaque selves.
We aren't see-through either. You've no idea what I am. And vice-versa. Yet, we are here. Now. Our endless nights and translucent mornings.
This must be love. Because all I want ever, is to do apart what's real from that all encompassing illusion. And in that chaos, this love feels real, despite its many tempting tendencies to merge with a parallel dream. It feels rock-solid.
Mornings. Circles of smoke rise from our mouths, peacefully. We watch them merge and diverge. Play little games, between themselves. And form shadows on our naked thighs. Even smoke isn't see-through. We gape at its translucence. And then, at each other. Our immaculately complicated opaque selves.
We aren't see-through either. You've no idea what I am. And vice-versa. Yet, we are here. Now. Our endless nights and translucent mornings.
This must be love. Because all I want ever, is to do apart what's real from that all encompassing illusion. And in that chaos, this love feels real, despite its many tempting tendencies to merge with a parallel dream. It feels rock-solid.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Tonight
Can the truth be forgotten for one night?
Can I come back to you for tonight?
I promise, I will get away before you're up in the morning.
Can we ditch the past, and care not about the future?
And slip into the present, just for tonight, love.
The corner in your bed, that belonged to me,
Can I have it again, just for tonight?
Can I brush my fingers through your hair?
And kiss your forehead?
And watch you sleep?
Can I see you tonight?
One time, one last time.
Can I love you tonight?
My sweetheart, my sexhay bear, my baby...
Can I come back to you for tonight?
I promise, I will get away before you're up in the morning.
Can we ditch the past, and care not about the future?
And slip into the present, just for tonight, love.
The corner in your bed, that belonged to me,
Can I have it again, just for tonight?
Can I brush my fingers through your hair?
And kiss your forehead?
And watch you sleep?
Can I see you tonight?
One time, one last time.
Can I love you tonight?
My sweetheart, my sexhay bear, my baby...
I've Got Tonight
Tonight is moist with the memories of another night. Another night, on which I wanted to elope with you. Gasp, and leave everything and everyone behind. I was almost toying with the idea, flirting with it, tempting it. The idea. Of giving up the all the notions I grew up with and take a huge leap. Because I had fallen for your faults. And for the beauty in those. I had fallen and probably must have hit my head and was delirious. And saw things that weren't ever there. Like your familiar silhouette on the wall opposite. Like love for me in your eyes. Both of your eyes. Like a non-existent future, wherein we would embrace each other in entirety and honesty, by getting past what seemed like some stretched list of childish differences. By getting past the many notions we were brought up with. Exactly like how I had wished I would, on some night I now both miss and regret.
I wished to chase you in and out of the shadows on the streets. And then corner you and laugh with you till the day broke.
But, seriously, what was I thinking. What was I thinking.
But, seriously, what was I thinking. What was I thinking.
Past
She sees him all the time.
A tall figure silhouetted against the dark of the night in the car's headlights. The back of his head at a popular restaurant. His hands steadying an older woman beside him. The curve of his neck as he turns away to answer a phone call.
He is always at the corner of her eyes. If she tries to look at him directly, he moves further and further, ever more indistinct. So she must settle for the hazy outline of his profile, the shape of his shoulders, the way he stands,
must settle without the smooth line of his jaw, the depth of his eyes, the sound of his voice, must settle without so much but this is life and she moves through it day to day, never pausing to think, that will surely break her, just persevering.
she dreams of meeting him. She dreams that she looks at him, and for a girl who has spent her whole life hiding things, it is the first time she wants to look at someone and have her eyes speak for her. Tell him everything.
He reaches out to touch her and the instant their skin makes contact, she wakes up.
The first blow sends her to her knees, hot blood spurting from her nose. She cannot believe this is happening to her. In slow motion, she raises her hand to her face, sees the blood and begins to turn her face towards him.
Every woman. beautiful. strong. a swan. steel under silk. flowing like moonlight over ripples of water. Bent and twisted to another's will. silence. Tears they only cried to God. The costs of making their choices. They broke free. Broke their bounds. When the heart can take no more, it ruptures. They broke free, broke apart. Rose like a glowing phoenix from ashes and soared.
When he throws her like a ragdoll to the ground, grit biting into her lacerations, she is no longer there, her face serene as blood ebbs and flows. The fate of millions before her glistens within the one diamond tear drop on her eyelashes - the stars tell the fate of millions after her.
A tall figure silhouetted against the dark of the night in the car's headlights. The back of his head at a popular restaurant. His hands steadying an older woman beside him. The curve of his neck as he turns away to answer a phone call.
He is always at the corner of her eyes. If she tries to look at him directly, he moves further and further, ever more indistinct. So she must settle for the hazy outline of his profile, the shape of his shoulders, the way he stands,
must settle without the smooth line of his jaw, the depth of his eyes, the sound of his voice, must settle without so much but this is life and she moves through it day to day, never pausing to think, that will surely break her, just persevering.
she dreams of meeting him. She dreams that she looks at him, and for a girl who has spent her whole life hiding things, it is the first time she wants to look at someone and have her eyes speak for her. Tell him everything.
He reaches out to touch her and the instant their skin makes contact, she wakes up.
The first blow sends her to her knees, hot blood spurting from her nose. She cannot believe this is happening to her. In slow motion, she raises her hand to her face, sees the blood and begins to turn her face towards him.
The second sends her sprawling across the floor, choking on dust and the metal taste of her own blood as her teeth cut into her cheek.
When the first kick lands in her ribs, she hears a woman scream.
When the first kick lands in her ribs, she hears a woman scream.
He twists her hair into his hand and drags her head back so she can watch through her hazy vision. She takes a fist to her face, and her skin splits and blooms deep red, the blue sky seems to surround her, swimming across her world,
while he pummels her body, her soul takes flight.
while he pummels her body, her soul takes flight.
Every woman. beautiful. strong. a swan. steel under silk. flowing like moonlight over ripples of water. Bent and twisted to another's will. silence. Tears they only cried to God. The costs of making their choices. They broke free. Broke their bounds. When the heart can take no more, it ruptures. They broke free, broke apart. Rose like a glowing phoenix from ashes and soared.
When he throws her like a ragdoll to the ground, grit biting into her lacerations, she is no longer there, her face serene as blood ebbs and flows. The fate of millions before her glistens within the one diamond tear drop on her eyelashes - the stars tell the fate of millions after her.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Conversation
People speak because there are things they don't want to hear;
They listen because there are things they don't want to say.
Certainly they both considered conversation a pleasure.
Sometimes they talked with their faces pressed together;
Sometimes with their backs to each other.
In fact they would go to bed early, so that they could talk.
They would take their conversations to bed, lying there for hours,
going over each detail of their day, content in the knowledge
that they would wake up with one another.
They listen because there are things they don't want to say.
Certainly they both considered conversation a pleasure.
Sometimes they talked with their faces pressed together;
Sometimes with their backs to each other.
In fact they would go to bed early, so that they could talk.
They would take their conversations to bed, lying there for hours,
going over each detail of their day, content in the knowledge
that they would wake up with one another.
Paraphernalia
I will let the folds on your bed-sheets stay. I will leave them the way they are, until they become creases. I won't empty the ash tray ever. The imprints of your lips on the cup from your last sip, is a thing I would never part from. I will cage your smells in this room, for the years to come. Your voice, your hmmm's and ohh's, forever.
Your touch, our dreams, the castles we built, I swear, I will keep them safe. Until the day, you come back to me. To continue my life from where you had abruptly paused it. To pick me up again from where you had abandoned me. To love me again. To make my story come true.
Your touch, our dreams, the castles we built, I swear, I will keep them safe. Until the day, you come back to me. To continue my life from where you had abruptly paused it. To pick me up again from where you had abandoned me. To love me again. To make my story come true.
The Right Kind Of Words
Someday, when sunrise dares to compare itself to you,
You in all your morning radiance,
You, searing white light in all your awe,
I will toil endlessly
To find just the right kind of words
To tell you, if I get the chance,
Just how much I lost
When I thought I could lose you
And live to tell the tale.
You in all your morning radiance,
You, searing white light in all your awe,
I will toil endlessly
To find just the right kind of words
To tell you, if I get the chance,
Just how much I lost
When I thought I could lose you
And live to tell the tale.
I & II
I
As I try to forget you right now I find it very heart-wrenching. but that's imperative. I can't afford to have you in my mind beyond a certain time. Love is a power game. Of the worst sorts. Besides, love gives you the power to hurt me. By loving you, I give you this supremacy over me. It's like you rule my moods. You totally hold the strings of my life. I have confirmed it many times over that I would want you a hundred times over all the other wants in life. I bear the consequences of every inconsequential thing you do. I am like the china in your hands. For you, I dream of the pros and cons of if-only's.
II
All this time I have tried to hate you because I am done convincing me that you are not the one, because you can't just be the one. I never fell for you. I never will. It's an impossibility. But there is a glitch. No, it's not even that. Just a dormant fear within me that at the end of time, it could be you, if not anyone else. Then, I would have to keep all ego aside and take you in. It's this constant fear of this contingent future that keeps me on my toes, always trying to hate you. Yesterday while crossing a busy street, this thought crossed my mind. Is it you? What if it is you? What if it has always been you? I am doing a worst-case scenario analysis. Fpr you, I fret over the pros and cons of what-if's.
As I try to forget you right now I find it very heart-wrenching. but that's imperative. I can't afford to have you in my mind beyond a certain time. Love is a power game. Of the worst sorts. Besides, love gives you the power to hurt me. By loving you, I give you this supremacy over me. It's like you rule my moods. You totally hold the strings of my life. I have confirmed it many times over that I would want you a hundred times over all the other wants in life. I bear the consequences of every inconsequential thing you do. I am like the china in your hands. For you, I dream of the pros and cons of if-only's.
II
All this time I have tried to hate you because I am done convincing me that you are not the one, because you can't just be the one. I never fell for you. I never will. It's an impossibility. But there is a glitch. No, it's not even that. Just a dormant fear within me that at the end of time, it could be you, if not anyone else. Then, I would have to keep all ego aside and take you in. It's this constant fear of this contingent future that keeps me on my toes, always trying to hate you. Yesterday while crossing a busy street, this thought crossed my mind. Is it you? What if it is you? What if it has always been you? I am doing a worst-case scenario analysis. Fpr you, I fret over the pros and cons of what-if's.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Cadaver
The smell of burning flesh is intriguing. Enticing. Arousing.
The way the flames lick his body. A lick at the groin and he feels the heat on his neck. She watches, wide-eyed and paralyzed, watches the fingers move down, painfully slow as they roam her supple thighs, the heat of the fire matching the heat in her crotch. The room is ablaze, but this ritualistic fascination keeps them cold in their motions. Her skin is crawling, her skin is peeling, his senses are wired, his urge rising with the beat of her moan in every stroke.
Bodies join, and the heat rises a thousand degrees. The union breaks, and all energy is spent. Frigid breaths put the fire out, and the beat is never the same again.
The way the flames lick his body. A lick at the groin and he feels the heat on his neck. She watches, wide-eyed and paralyzed, watches the fingers move down, painfully slow as they roam her supple thighs, the heat of the fire matching the heat in her crotch. The room is ablaze, but this ritualistic fascination keeps them cold in their motions. Her skin is crawling, her skin is peeling, his senses are wired, his urge rising with the beat of her moan in every stroke.
Bodies join, and the heat rises a thousand degrees. The union breaks, and all energy is spent. Frigid breaths put the fire out, and the beat is never the same again.
Of Feathers And Fluff
I am, once again, a shape made out of pillows, your kisses of feathers and fluff, an interruption mid-dream, a comfort while you're gone.
Such body lovers have, such exacting breath, that they touch or sigh. Just for a little while.
I love you.
Such body lovers have, such exacting breath, that they touch or sigh. Just for a little while.
I love you.
And You
I absolutely crazily adore you. I worship you, and the steps you take. From wherever to wherever else you move.
I beseech you; to grace me with your presence for the rest of my life.
So the entire affair of living is a joy.
An affair of heart and of spirit.
Tomorrows
Come, stay with me, my love. Time will slowly pass, and these warm sunny mornings will be spent looking back. But let us come together, and think not of what has gone, but what is to come. And make our tomorrows the best yesterdays when time is up.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Thank You
Dear Saleh,
You’ve only been gone for a day, but I already miss you. I’d formed an emotional attachment to you, one so deep that you’ll probably be one of my favourites for all my life.
You’ve been like teacher to me, teaching me important lessons about Life with all the seriousness of buying me a cone of ice cream. The opportunities you threw my way changed my life completely, when I was least expecting it. The growing-up I’ve had in the last 6 months has been incredibly overwhelming, and it’s something almost tangible, because I can see what has changed about myself and how I treat situations differently now than I would have before.
It was with you that I started writing again in my blog, something that became one of the biggest parts of me surprisingly soon after its inception. It has helped me understand myself better, has taught me how best to live with myself and what, according to me, is the best form of catharsis. I’ve grown as a writer as well, and for that I can’t express my gratitude in words, ironic as that might be.
You gifted me with depth of character at the same time as showing me shallowness. You taught me about the futility of pushing a wall, about failure, change, paradigm shifts, acceptance, freedom, peace, love and hate. You instilled in me a kind of confidence I didn’t know I could ever possess, a kind of acceptance I didn’t think I could allow.
You taught me to apologise for mistakes I’ve made, to be able to face the consequences of a bad decision, to be accountable, to hold the reigns of my own life and steer. With you around, I learnt to accept realities about myself that I’d long since repressed, and you gave me the confidence to be who I am and live life on my own terms unapologetically. You taught me to be straightforward with myself, which today, helps me be straightforward with others. I may still have defences, but I can say with all honesty that there are barely any that I consciously keep up myself, and the ones that I do, I’m aware of and can admit to having.
As a lesson for earlier in my life having been presumptuous enough to label certain activities as those I’d “never deign to do”, you somehow manoeuvred my life to take a path where these activities became a common, everyday occurrence. If the girl I was two years ago met the girl I am today, she’d walk past the current me, without the slightest idea of recognition.
You changed my ideas about Life and the Future and career completely. I used to see myself studying to be a work-driven, focused, ambitious career woman, but today, all I know about the future is that I want to travel and write and read, with an endless supply of music and you by my side as my only company. “Float” is probably a more appropriate word for what I want to do.
You gave me the opportunities for several out-of-body experiences, each of which has made me a more introspective and deeper person. By introducing yourself in my life and making me incredibly attached to you, you taught me about sickness of the mind. You showed me the difference between physical relationships backed by emotion and sentiment, and physical involvements based on unfamiliarity and alien-ness.
You thrust me in crowds and then shut me up in solitary confinement, and made me learn to appreciate both situations. You taught me to stop judging myself, and now I don’t judge others, either. You taught me to value and give attention to only things that matter, and let unimportant people and objects and desires slide.
You taught me to take charge of my own life, yet you withheld from me the satisfaction and experience of having certain desires fulfilled, if you thought I wasn’t really ready for them yet. You made sure I learnt to swallow the bitter medicine, only to find out that it works wonders and has me in the pink of health in a matter of hours. You massaged my aching bones and soaked my pain when I needed it, but then walloped me mercilessly when I got complacent or began to drift away from myself.
With your hands holding me steady, I leapt across a chasm, and grew to be a happier person.
Thank you for all that, and more. I will always cherish and appreciate the memories I have of you, if not as the luckiest time of my life, at least as one of the best year of my adolescence.
With love and affection,
You’ve only been gone for a day, but I already miss you. I’d formed an emotional attachment to you, one so deep that you’ll probably be one of my favourites for all my life.
You’ve been like teacher to me, teaching me important lessons about Life with all the seriousness of buying me a cone of ice cream. The opportunities you threw my way changed my life completely, when I was least expecting it. The growing-up I’ve had in the last 6 months has been incredibly overwhelming, and it’s something almost tangible, because I can see what has changed about myself and how I treat situations differently now than I would have before.
It was with you that I started writing again in my blog, something that became one of the biggest parts of me surprisingly soon after its inception. It has helped me understand myself better, has taught me how best to live with myself and what, according to me, is the best form of catharsis. I’ve grown as a writer as well, and for that I can’t express my gratitude in words, ironic as that might be.
You gifted me with depth of character at the same time as showing me shallowness. You taught me about the futility of pushing a wall, about failure, change, paradigm shifts, acceptance, freedom, peace, love and hate. You instilled in me a kind of confidence I didn’t know I could ever possess, a kind of acceptance I didn’t think I could allow.
You taught me to apologise for mistakes I’ve made, to be able to face the consequences of a bad decision, to be accountable, to hold the reigns of my own life and steer. With you around, I learnt to accept realities about myself that I’d long since repressed, and you gave me the confidence to be who I am and live life on my own terms unapologetically. You taught me to be straightforward with myself, which today, helps me be straightforward with others. I may still have defences, but I can say with all honesty that there are barely any that I consciously keep up myself, and the ones that I do, I’m aware of and can admit to having.
As a lesson for earlier in my life having been presumptuous enough to label certain activities as those I’d “never deign to do”, you somehow manoeuvred my life to take a path where these activities became a common, everyday occurrence. If the girl I was two years ago met the girl I am today, she’d walk past the current me, without the slightest idea of recognition.
You changed my ideas about Life and the Future and career completely. I used to see myself studying to be a work-driven, focused, ambitious career woman, but today, all I know about the future is that I want to travel and write and read, with an endless supply of music and you by my side as my only company. “Float” is probably a more appropriate word for what I want to do.
You gave me the opportunities for several out-of-body experiences, each of which has made me a more introspective and deeper person. By introducing yourself in my life and making me incredibly attached to you, you taught me about sickness of the mind. You showed me the difference between physical relationships backed by emotion and sentiment, and physical involvements based on unfamiliarity and alien-ness.
You thrust me in crowds and then shut me up in solitary confinement, and made me learn to appreciate both situations. You taught me to stop judging myself, and now I don’t judge others, either. You taught me to value and give attention to only things that matter, and let unimportant people and objects and desires slide.
You taught me to take charge of my own life, yet you withheld from me the satisfaction and experience of having certain desires fulfilled, if you thought I wasn’t really ready for them yet. You made sure I learnt to swallow the bitter medicine, only to find out that it works wonders and has me in the pink of health in a matter of hours. You massaged my aching bones and soaked my pain when I needed it, but then walloped me mercilessly when I got complacent or began to drift away from myself.
With your hands holding me steady, I leapt across a chasm, and grew to be a happier person.
Thank you for all that, and more. I will always cherish and appreciate the memories I have of you, if not as the luckiest time of my life, at least as one of the best year of my adolescence.
With love and affection,
Fyy
Addiction
Why are you so addictive?
Why can't I get enough of you, get bored, like I do with other people? It's not like you're something so extraordinary, you're aren't my mind double, you aren't my polar opposite either. In fact we're very similar and yet very different, I can't decide what's more dominant- our parallelisms or our stark polarities?
I need constant approval and compliments but you're too impenetrable to say what you feel.
You can't resist challenges, but I'm already an open book.
Both of us bore easily of people and places, yet we've surprisingly stuck together for a long time.
My favourite pastime is to whine and you can't stop poking fun at me for that.
Both of us hate possessiveness, but strangely enough are fiercely possessive of each other and what's even stranger is that neither of us seem to mind it.
I have major major space issues, yet I can't get enough of you, I can't even conceive the idea of pushing you away.
You're a born genius, I've read my way to ingenuity.
You're too focused on bigger pictures, I'm too preoccupied reveling in the minute to even consider the bigger picture for a half-second.
We're both too egoistic and self-preservative to make the first move, yet things take on a shockingly quick pace with us.
You're experienced, have been there done that for practically everything. Calling me even a novice is an over-estimation.
I'm annoyingly rational, logical and pragmatic, yet there isn't an iota of practicality and realism in what I have with you.
I hate presumptuous, tongue-in-cheek humor, but to you, being cocky is like breathing.
You can't stop cursing and making snide comments about me, yet you spend all day and all night talking to me.
You hate it when people understand, 'get' you and have you 'figured out', but I had you psycho-analysed to the T before letting myself get this attached to you.
Predictability is your worst nightmare, yet I know what you're going to do or say before you have a chance to put it in action.
You hate it when I don't pay attention to what you're saying, yet I've been writing this the whole time while you tell your stupid story.
We both sulk at the smallest of things, but yet can't not talk to each other for longer than like, a day.
You find solace in the comfort of your defences, not realizing that I can see through all of them because they're all of mine, too.
You make me happy. Like really happy. You addictive, addictive man.
I need constant approval and compliments but you're too impenetrable to say what you feel.
You can't resist challenges, but I'm already an open book.
Both of us bore easily of people and places, yet we've surprisingly stuck together for a long time.
My favourite pastime is to whine and you can't stop poking fun at me for that.
Both of us hate possessiveness, but strangely enough are fiercely possessive of each other and what's even stranger is that neither of us seem to mind it.
I have major major space issues, yet I can't get enough of you, I can't even conceive the idea of pushing you away.
You're a born genius, I've read my way to ingenuity.
You're too focused on bigger pictures, I'm too preoccupied reveling in the minute to even consider the bigger picture for a half-second.
We're both too egoistic and self-preservative to make the first move, yet things take on a shockingly quick pace with us.
You're experienced, have been there done that for practically everything. Calling me even a novice is an over-estimation.
I'm annoyingly rational, logical and pragmatic, yet there isn't an iota of practicality and realism in what I have with you.
I hate presumptuous, tongue-in-cheek humor, but to you, being cocky is like breathing.
You can't stop cursing and making snide comments about me, yet you spend all day and all night talking to me.
You hate it when people understand, 'get' you and have you 'figured out', but I had you psycho-analysed to the T before letting myself get this attached to you.
Predictability is your worst nightmare, yet I know what you're going to do or say before you have a chance to put it in action.
You hate it when I don't pay attention to what you're saying, yet I've been writing this the whole time while you tell your stupid story.
We both sulk at the smallest of things, but yet can't not talk to each other for longer than like, a day.
You find solace in the comfort of your defences, not realizing that I can see through all of them because they're all of mine, too.
You make me happy. Like really happy. You addictive, addictive man.
Interlude
Whoever said “Opposites attract” really knew what they were talking about.
You look at me with your grin reaching your eyes and I want to be able to smile like that, as well.
If there’s anyone I could learn about happiness from, it’s you.
You’re capable of seeing the beauty in food, technology, psycho cats, and everything else I’d turn away from.
Yet, as we lay together, our breathing synchronised, I feel this strange connection to you: like I understand where you come from even though I’m never going to be coming from there myself.
Your hand finds mine, and our fingers intertwine. I smile to myself, you smile to me.
The time we shared was perfect, truly.
Nothing can tarnish the memories I have of you.
We walk through the city I call home in comfortable silences, you smoking cigarettes and drinking bubble tea along the way.
We have conversations about Life and Happiness and Darkness, punctuating our sentences with soft, lazy kisses.
We explore each other, body and soul; yet don’t quite have each other.
My mind races, in an attempt to compress and earmark all the mental pictures I clicked into a folder with your name on it.
Now when you’re gone, if I want to remember happiness, I just have to open this folder there it is, plain and simple, happiness as ordered.
Thank you for that.
I may never say it, but I do miss you.
You look at me with your grin reaching your eyes and I want to be able to smile like that, as well.
If there’s anyone I could learn about happiness from, it’s you.
You’re capable of seeing the beauty in food, technology, psycho cats, and everything else I’d turn away from.
Yet, as we lay together, our breathing synchronised, I feel this strange connection to you: like I understand where you come from even though I’m never going to be coming from there myself.
Your hand finds mine, and our fingers intertwine. I smile to myself, you smile to me.
The time we shared was perfect, truly.
Nothing can tarnish the memories I have of you.
We walk through the city I call home in comfortable silences, you smoking cigarettes and drinking bubble tea along the way.
We have conversations about Life and Happiness and Darkness, punctuating our sentences with soft, lazy kisses.
We explore each other, body and soul; yet don’t quite have each other.
My mind races, in an attempt to compress and earmark all the mental pictures I clicked into a folder with your name on it.
Now when you’re gone, if I want to remember happiness, I just have to open this folder there it is, plain and simple, happiness as ordered.
Thank you for that.
I may never say it, but I do miss you.
Ain't No Easy Way
Your touch still sits on my face, my neck, my back, my stomach, my arms like an unbearable tingle. I try to smear it away as the tears start rolling down my face, but it's a lost cause.
You've been a part of me.
You've consumed me.
You’ve been one with me.
I try to think back to a time when you weren't in my life.
Before we got together, before we were even friends.
But my memory is hazy.
I didn't even realize how important to me you had gradually become.
And when I did realize, I thought it would be the end of the world, because I wasn't equally important to you.
Turns out I was.
You've been a part of me.
You've consumed me.
You’ve been one with me.
I try to think back to a time when you weren't in my life.
Before we got together, before we were even friends.
But my memory is hazy.
I didn't even realize how important to me you had gradually become.
And when I did realize, I thought it would be the end of the world, because I wasn't equally important to you.
Turns out I was.
But what happens now?
My life hovers on a knife-edge, it could go either way: butter-side up or butter-side down.
But that's the problem.
You make me either soar or plunge.
With you, I'm either rivalling the stars in their exaltation or competing with the molten lava in the core of the earth for its depth.
I keep telling myself that this can’t really be the way things end between is, that this is just us in…transit and limbo, but with each passing day, all that seems to be just wishful thinking.
The fact of the matter is and remains that I truly love you, am deeply attached to you, and unfortunately for myself, probably will be for a long, long time.
My life hovers on a knife-edge, it could go either way: butter-side up or butter-side down.
But that's the problem.
You make me either soar or plunge.
With you, I'm either rivalling the stars in their exaltation or competing with the molten lava in the core of the earth for its depth.
I keep telling myself that this can’t really be the way things end between is, that this is just us in…transit and limbo, but with each passing day, all that seems to be just wishful thinking.
The fact of the matter is and remains that I truly love you, am deeply attached to you, and unfortunately for myself, probably will be for a long, long time.
Come
These slings they slung, they've tangled me up,
and I'm strung up, high, and hung;
I'm floating, tied to azure skies,
Peering down from up above.
and I've gone searching for your mirrors
in the tattoos of your name,
in candid nights of silent joy,
in the closets of our sacred shame.
As the moon draws us closer yet,
As the night sky eats the sun,
and the lights come out of hiding,
and our bodies join, as we come as one.
Morning draws us shadows and we fall,
frozen hands cracking on frozen floors,
as our lovers come to take us home,
led astray through alien doors.
and I'm strung up, high, and hung;
I'm floating, tied to azure skies,
Peering down from up above.
and I've gone searching for your mirrors
in the tattoos of your name,
in candid nights of silent joy,
in the closets of our sacred shame.
As the moon draws us closer yet,
As the night sky eats the sun,
and the lights come out of hiding,
and our bodies join, as we come as one.
Morning draws us shadows and we fall,
frozen hands cracking on frozen floors,
as our lovers come to take us home,
led astray through alien doors.
Act Appalled
The truth, my sexhay bear, is that you never loved me. The truth, my darling, is that you were too caught up in your own skin to hear the words pouring out of my heart. The truth, my love, is that you wanted the truth for yourself.
And now you have it.
The truth is, my dear, that I do not love you. I never did. I refuse to. The truth is that we will never know the truth in its entirety. The truth, my life my heart, is that we fell out of love the moment we rolled out of bed that first morning we spent together at your house, the moment you called me a friend. The truth, my filthy sexy sexpot, is that the filth of our mouths only shows shades of the filth that lies content in our hearts. The truth, my raunchy vivacious prince, is that when you move inside me, I feel you move throughout me. The truth, my innocent child, is that I am so lost in you, that I wouldn't be able to see an exit through the webs we've spun ourselves inside each other, even if it were clearly marked with red neon signs, and they gave us little path-lights to let us know we're getting closer, that we're standing at the edge of salvation, and all we need is one. tiny. nigh-insignificant. little. shove.
The truth, my dear, is that the salt of our tears has kept us afloat all this time, and I for one am tired of flailing my arms in this puddle we're so adamant is an ocean.
The truth, goddamnit, is that I hate myself for loving you. The truth is that I cannot stop loving you. And I won't stop loving you. So I might as well leave for a while.
I left my heart tied to the front door. You need it more than I.
And now you have it.
The truth is, my dear, that I do not love you. I never did. I refuse to. The truth is that we will never know the truth in its entirety. The truth, my life my heart, is that we fell out of love the moment we rolled out of bed that first morning we spent together at your house, the moment you called me a friend. The truth, my filthy sexy sexpot, is that the filth of our mouths only shows shades of the filth that lies content in our hearts. The truth, my raunchy vivacious prince, is that when you move inside me, I feel you move throughout me. The truth, my innocent child, is that I am so lost in you, that I wouldn't be able to see an exit through the webs we've spun ourselves inside each other, even if it were clearly marked with red neon signs, and they gave us little path-lights to let us know we're getting closer, that we're standing at the edge of salvation, and all we need is one. tiny. nigh-insignificant. little. shove.
The truth, my dear, is that the salt of our tears has kept us afloat all this time, and I for one am tired of flailing my arms in this puddle we're so adamant is an ocean.
The truth, goddamnit, is that I hate myself for loving you. The truth is that I cannot stop loving you. And I won't stop loving you. So I might as well leave for a while.
I left my heart tied to the front door. You need it more than I.
Two Thousand Stomach Aches
She kissed him on the lips.
In grey tones of early mornings, in those spaces where there was distance, she would look at her, and find him more attractive. He was still everything she wanted. When his sulk bled in his mouth, when his voice cracked in her breath, when his eyes danced in her hips, she found happiness. She still wanted more.
She would call when he would lay besides another, and ask if everything was okay. He gave her assurances, gave her love, gave her a sense of stillness. She took them in her embrace, and named her secrets after stars.
He watched while she wrote. She watched while he swum. With ritual uncertainty, they tangled in corners where neither belonged. When she pulled away, he would escape into the shadows, leaving her with his scent, and the promise of something more yet.
In grey tones of early mornings, in those spaces where there was distance, she would look at her, and find him more attractive. He was still everything she wanted. When his sulk bled in his mouth, when his voice cracked in her breath, when his eyes danced in her hips, she found happiness. She still wanted more.
She would call when he would lay besides another, and ask if everything was okay. He gave her assurances, gave her love, gave her a sense of stillness. She took them in her embrace, and named her secrets after stars.
He watched while she wrote. She watched while he swum. With ritual uncertainty, they tangled in corners where neither belonged. When she pulled away, he would escape into the shadows, leaving her with his scent, and the promise of something more yet.
I Want To Love You (But I Know You Don't Want Me To)
The scars on my back tell me stories, just like the bruises on your knees sing to you. In a monstrous moment of passion, we looked at each other in the eyes, and wondered, aloud, how it could get any better than this.
And then we found out that it couldn't. But it could get a lot worse.
Our love is a texture of taboo,
sunk into our hot wounds,
blood coated on your nails,
and tears melting on my face.
And then we found out that it couldn't. But it could get a lot worse.
Our love is a texture of taboo,
sunk into our hot wounds,
blood coated on your nails,
and tears melting on my face.
Comforting Sounds
He spoke of a memory immersed in sleep, a touch of comfort the length of her hair flowing over his forearm. She whispered "What are you waiting for?" and he simply smiled.
She woke, gathered her clothes, kissed his restless eyes as he slept, and walked out on life as they knew it.
Tomorrow's sunrise is going to be glorious, she thought. That, and everything that will follow.
She woke up, staring blindly into the night. Unable to breathe, she clawed at his scent, and burst into rivulets when she wandered too far away.
She woke, gathered her clothes, kissed his restless eyes as he slept, and walked out on life as they knew it.
Tomorrow's sunrise is going to be glorious, she thought. That, and everything that will follow.
She woke up, staring blindly into the night. Unable to breathe, she clawed at his scent, and burst into rivulets when she wandered too far away.
Kiss Each Other Clean
Love, I have discovered, is not a matter of chemistry. It is an exercise in touch, sight and sound; your "lover" undressing, his or her panting breath on your shoulder, the mirror images in each other's irises, falling in love to the sound of a man singing, and falling out of it to the wailing of his guitar.
I was happy just to be with you.
I was happy just to be with you.
Lust Or Liberation
He called it lust. I spelled it liberation. We kissed softly, reminding ourselves of who we belonged to, but remembering that this moment, at least, was ours alone.
We let our clothes tangle on the bed, the floor, and all about us, if only it means that our hearts will fold perfectly when we throb into each other, and share the foul tastes of this world within blinks of the twilight dawn.
When he wakes up, I'll be gone.
At least I have loved him, if only for a night.
At least I'll be able to say, I once lived in spite of who I was, and who I will be forever more.
We let our clothes tangle on the bed, the floor, and all about us, if only it means that our hearts will fold perfectly when we throb into each other, and share the foul tastes of this world within blinks of the twilight dawn.
When he wakes up, I'll be gone.
At least I have loved him, if only for a night.
At least I'll be able to say, I once lived in spite of who I was, and who I will be forever more.
An Even Sadness
We returned to what we had called our bed, as we had called it ours with our others too. We remember brushing the cobwebs off our decadent bodies, spinning stories into nails, and writing stories with strands of air. You played with my hair as you blew a short tune into my heart; La-la-la-la-la it went. You spoke to me in triads through our nights, but I listened only in pictures and feelings. We should have known that was a sign, but we were blind. We were young. We were content to walk as each other's shadows, hiding in the sun. When contentment turned to insufficiency, we will never know for certain, my dear. But I know, as you know, that when we woke up with our others, we were not surprised. The stars had it read to us as we slept, but without the image and its melody, we did not care to pay attention.
Losing ourselves in each other's eyes was when we lost ourselves to ourselves. Finding ourselves, it turns out, is a frightening trial of faith, a faith neither of us seems to hope to find.
Losing ourselves in each other's eyes was when we lost ourselves to ourselves. Finding ourselves, it turns out, is a frightening trial of faith, a faith neither of us seems to hope to find.
A Hollow Scene
She bit him on the shoulder, where moonlight fought to outshine the pearls in his spine. He arched a smile, feeling the pain turn to pleasure, his eager hands peeling her skin with such tenderness.
Let me love you like a king...
In the quiet love that followed, she grew herself wings of mercury, and rode the winds to her frozen heaven.
Her heart clawed at his throat, as streams burst forth from his heavy lungs.
He switched instruments in the midst of making this strange brand of audible love to her, and she watched, wide-eyed and wondrous, the deep red notes rise into the air as he coaxed the bow across his flesh and bones. There was a radiance to the sound, and a horror she mistook for lust.
Let me love you like a king...
In the quiet love that followed, she grew herself wings of mercury, and rode the winds to her frozen heaven.
Her heart clawed at his throat, as streams burst forth from his heavy lungs.
He switched instruments in the midst of making this strange brand of audible love to her, and she watched, wide-eyed and wondrous, the deep red notes rise into the air as he coaxed the bow across his flesh and bones. There was a radiance to the sound, and a horror she mistook for lust.
Exit Strategy
"We are each other's cocoons, and we are monsters waiting to morph into beautiful, wondrous beings."
"But I don't want to cut through you."
She dug her nails in deep and ripped his skin apart.
The light in her eyes became a lightness in his heart.
She walked into freedom, and gave herself a name.
"But I don't want to cut through you."
She dug her nails in deep and ripped his skin apart.
The light in her eyes became a lightness in his heart.
She walked into freedom, and gave herself a name.
Midnight All Day
It felt strange when they started falling asleep without making love, not because of the lack of desire but because of the familiarity that was growing.
But then on some nights, she would feel him pressing up against her, feel his breath and his lips on the back her neck, his mouth finding hers.
He could be aloof in bed as he could be in general, focusing on some part of her body to the point of seeming to forget her. But that distance no longer threatens her.
And they say that the less one is capable of sex, the more one is capable of love.
But then on some nights, she would feel him pressing up against her, feel his breath and his lips on the back her neck, his mouth finding hers.
He could be aloof in bed as he could be in general, focusing on some part of her body to the point of seeming to forget her. But that distance no longer threatens her.
And they say that the less one is capable of sex, the more one is capable of love.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Cause' Life Gets You Like That
Sometimes I look at us, you and me, and I wonder what got us. What got us lonely and sad and hurting in places we didn't know existed and in ways we couldn't define. What took away the belief that he was going to walk up to you with roses in his hands and his heart in his eyes and he was going to be tall, and handsome, with these eyes that would look at you like they were drinking you in, this smile that would just make your heart stumble, these gorgeous strong arms and shoulders that you'd just want to run your fingers over, and that he'd think you were perfect however you were, and he would be intelligent and witty and sharp and intuitive and caring and protective and kind and generous and honest and loyal and faithful and good, just so good that nothing and nobody else would ever stand a chance against him. and all he'd ever want was you and you'd ever want was him, and that was it, you loved and respected and trusted each other and you were each other's world and there was the happy ending we dreamed of.
And then what happened.
How did everything change so drastically, when did we realize it wasn't ever going to be like that, so we'd settle for second, no third, no fourth best, no okay, not any category of best, we'd just settle and keep settling. We'd just take what we got and get on with it, because here was the other part, we discovered there were bigger, tougher issues in life, like how badly your family could fuck you up, how badly other people could fuck you up, how badly you could fuck yourself up, how badly you could fuck someone else up, because everyone perpetuates this cycle of abuse, don't they. How badly you could crash and burn and be reduced to nothing but ashes.
But what the hey, hey, I survived so far and so have you. We're here, we're alive and kicking and sometimes we're tired and often times we give up, but I'll pull you back in and you'll pull me back in and we'll keep going. We'll escape once in a while, once every few years when it gets too much, and we'll go somewhere and do our version of crazy things, which are still everyone else's version of tame things cause that's just how we are, and we'll stay up to watch the sunrise and dance like there's no tomorrow and eat the most delicious food, nothing much will matter. Then we'll come back and we'll struggle on.
But you'll always have me and I'll always have you.
And then what happened.
How did everything change so drastically, when did we realize it wasn't ever going to be like that, so we'd settle for second, no third, no fourth best, no okay, not any category of best, we'd just settle and keep settling. We'd just take what we got and get on with it, because here was the other part, we discovered there were bigger, tougher issues in life, like how badly your family could fuck you up, how badly other people could fuck you up, how badly you could fuck yourself up, how badly you could fuck someone else up, because everyone perpetuates this cycle of abuse, don't they. How badly you could crash and burn and be reduced to nothing but ashes.
But what the hey, hey, I survived so far and so have you. We're here, we're alive and kicking and sometimes we're tired and often times we give up, but I'll pull you back in and you'll pull me back in and we'll keep going. We'll escape once in a while, once every few years when it gets too much, and we'll go somewhere and do our version of crazy things, which are still everyone else's version of tame things cause that's just how we are, and we'll stay up to watch the sunrise and dance like there's no tomorrow and eat the most delicious food, nothing much will matter. Then we'll come back and we'll struggle on.
But you'll always have me and I'll always have you.
Point Of No Return
Wind in the winter trees, cherry blossoms with no blossoms.
Saturday dusks, blanketed hum drum of crickets, a longing finger along the smooth of skin.
Rain in your city, fog in mine, a hot shower, soap and bubbles floats across bare skins.
You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge,
in pursuit of that wish, which till now has been silent,
silent . .
On days like this, I’d spend with you in this room.
The faint light through the windows on your face.
You don’t need to cover yourself with a blanket, have my warmth for your use.
I want you to see me, fast asleep
I’d close my eyes, killing all the noise.
You should keep looking.
And we won’t talk.
For hours
I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge -
in your mind you've already succumbed to me
dropped all defences, completely succumbed to me -
now you are here with me: no second thoughts, you've decided,
decided . . .
We don’t need to talk when you are here in this room
You’d understand everything
I don’t have to say anything
Words would be noise
I’m yours and you are mine
Take from me, give to me
Bite me, kiss me, touch me, push me, breathe into me,
I won’t resist anything.
You have brought me to that moment where words run dry,
to that moment where speech disappears into silence,
silence . .
Days like this, you’ll spend with me in this room
I will be everyone for you who was always absent, always busy, always far away
My fingers will graze every inch of your body
In the dim of the spotlights, our shadows will touch
I’d close my eyes and steady my breath
You should keep looking
I will let you kiss the sound of my heart beat
I want you to see me in love
I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why …
In my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining
defenceless and silent -
and now I am here with you: no second thoughts, I've decided,
decided..
When you lie next to me, you’ll understand everything
I will let you taste my tears
I will say the words you’ve longed to hear
You will see how broken I have been under it all
How much in pain, how longing,
And I will let you fix me
Past the point of no return
the final threshold -
the bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn . . .
Saturday dusks, blanketed hum drum of crickets, a longing finger along the smooth of skin.
Rain in your city, fog in mine, a hot shower, soap and bubbles floats across bare skins.
You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge,
in pursuit of that wish, which till now has been silent,
silent . .
On days like this, I’d spend with you in this room.
The faint light through the windows on your face.
You don’t need to cover yourself with a blanket, have my warmth for your use.
I want you to see me, fast asleep
I’d close my eyes, killing all the noise.
You should keep looking.
And we won’t talk.
For hours
I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge -
in your mind you've already succumbed to me
dropped all defences, completely succumbed to me -
now you are here with me: no second thoughts, you've decided,
decided . . .
We don’t need to talk when you are here in this room
You’d understand everything
I don’t have to say anything
Words would be noise
I’m yours and you are mine
Take from me, give to me
Bite me, kiss me, touch me, push me, breathe into me,
I won’t resist anything.
You have brought me to that moment where words run dry,
to that moment where speech disappears into silence,
silence . .
Days like this, you’ll spend with me in this room
I will be everyone for you who was always absent, always busy, always far away
My fingers will graze every inch of your body
In the dim of the spotlights, our shadows will touch
I’d close my eyes and steady my breath
You should keep looking
I will let you kiss the sound of my heart beat
I want you to see me in love
I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why …
In my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining
defenceless and silent -
and now I am here with you: no second thoughts, I've decided,
decided..
When you lie next to me, you’ll understand everything
I will let you taste my tears
I will say the words you’ve longed to hear
You will see how broken I have been under it all
How much in pain, how longing,
And I will let you fix me
Past the point of no return
the final threshold -
the bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn . . .
Toast & Smoked Salmon
It's a day of lazy thoughts. Of slow smiles and a content heart. The one which has nothing to complain about, no one to point fingers at. The colour is red. Like a red red rose which I never received. I woke up to an empty house, like a quiet mouse. And I am carrying a bit of sleep around with me as I tiptoe through familiar paths of that which cease to exist. It's a day of beautiful poetry, poignant words, heart wrenching images lost in the absurd. And then there is passionate music, breaking all the rules. Only know that you have been high when you are feeling low, only hate the road when you have been missing home. It's the kind of day where you have screamed till the words dried out and now there is nothing left to say, to feel.
Breakfast of toast and smoked salmon. I let the stickiness be washed away with the lukewarm coffee. I let the smokiness disappear as I watched the crumbs fall. Every morning is like the one before and everybody needs someone to adore. I am counting on you, oh oh baby say you will. Oh oh baby, be my thrill.. And smile at the faint beauty I radiate only when I am alone, surrounded by all that I love. I wish you could understand, understand the pain in silent suffering. And the relief, in complicated confessing. Be my youth, my kissing booth, my sweet tooth, my beauty and truth. Be my thrill, if it isn't too much to ask for.
I want to write these words for you. About the lovely time we had, before you left. And I want to feel that blushing embarrassment when you find out that the words is about you. Watch you sit up a little straighter and smile your charming smile at me as you try not to look too pleased with yourself. Watch you ask me if I write for every guy I fall head over heels for, I want to look you in the eye and laugh in mock confirmation. I want to be nonchalant when I say, "Oh yes of course. What do you think, that I wrote these just for you? Are you nuts?"
Breakfast of toast and smoked salmon. I let the stickiness be washed away with the lukewarm coffee. I let the smokiness disappear as I watched the crumbs fall. Every morning is like the one before and everybody needs someone to adore. I am counting on you, oh oh baby say you will. Oh oh baby, be my thrill.. And smile at the faint beauty I radiate only when I am alone, surrounded by all that I love. I wish you could understand, understand the pain in silent suffering. And the relief, in complicated confessing. Be my youth, my kissing booth, my sweet tooth, my beauty and truth. Be my thrill, if it isn't too much to ask for.
I want to write these words for you. About the lovely time we had, before you left. And I want to feel that blushing embarrassment when you find out that the words is about you. Watch you sit up a little straighter and smile your charming smile at me as you try not to look too pleased with yourself. Watch you ask me if I write for every guy I fall head over heels for, I want to look you in the eye and laugh in mock confirmation. I want to be nonchalant when I say, "Oh yes of course. What do you think, that I wrote these just for you? Are you nuts?"
I love your sad tenderness, when I have hurt you. That's one of the reasons I could never be sorry for our quarrels, and they bothered you so. Those dear, dear little fusses, when I always tried so hard to make you kiss and forget..But I concur, at the thought of you. And my eyes crinkle with the kind of happiness which can only be felt, not shared. It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. And I think about how they all look the same, their eyes down, their steps hurried, just waiting for a sunny day while I wait for it to rain.
When I am with you, we (try to) stay up all night,
When you are not here, I can't get to sleep.
Praise God for these two insomnias!
And the difference between them.
- Rumi
When I am with you, we (try to) stay up all night,
When you are not here, I can't get to sleep.
Praise God for these two insomnias!
And the difference between them.
- Rumi
Monday, October 1, 2012
Truth Or Dare
That moment when I pulled the blanket away from you, and looked you in the eye. Defiant. Stop me if you dare. You smiled. I never took you for a gracious loser. I was impressed. And we both knew that it was never about the blanket.
I wish I was closer. To you. Down the street, to the left. Walking distance or maybe a bus ride away. Because sometimes, a phone call just isn't enough. I wouldn't know what to say, but I would stand by your side anyway. I would hold your hand if I saw you falter in your steps. I would block the way if you tried to crawl into the little black hole at the back of your head. I would get food and unpack it on your sofa. We would eat straight from the boxes as we flip channels in search of something ridiculous to watch. It will all be okay.
And you would chide me when I don't finish my food. But you would do it with a smile. The hours pass and the television is pushed out of our minds as conversation takes shape in bed. Words spill, confessions are made and secrets revealed. The tears will be wiped away by the other. And we would lie there, shoulder to shoulder, so close yet far away. Lost in our own thoughts, embracing the winners of fights we just lost. Remember the time when life was simple? We would both smile. But the darkness would hide it all away.
Shadows play a game of hide and seek over my outstretched feet. Little patterns whispering over the brown skin. The wind can be heard through the rustling of leaves. Angry nudging, doubtful thoughts. Don't make me do what I don't want to. Don't make me regret what I should never have to.
I think of the future whilst you sleep. How our paths might never cross again. I will miss having you being the most important person in my life.You will always be the most important person in my life,
You make me smile, I confess. I know, you whisper back. I might be in love, I hesitate. I know, you smile. But how can I know for sure? We never know anything for sure. And we stare silently at the ceiling as we let the distance creep between us.
I wish I was closer. To you. Down the street, to the left. Walking distance or maybe a bus ride away. Because sometimes, a phone call just isn't enough. I wouldn't know what to say, but I would stand by your side anyway. I would hold your hand if I saw you falter in your steps. I would block the way if you tried to crawl into the little black hole at the back of your head. I would get food and unpack it on your sofa. We would eat straight from the boxes as we flip channels in search of something ridiculous to watch. It will all be okay.
And you would chide me when I don't finish my food. But you would do it with a smile. The hours pass and the television is pushed out of our minds as conversation takes shape in bed. Words spill, confessions are made and secrets revealed. The tears will be wiped away by the other. And we would lie there, shoulder to shoulder, so close yet far away. Lost in our own thoughts, embracing the winners of fights we just lost. Remember the time when life was simple? We would both smile. But the darkness would hide it all away.
Shadows play a game of hide and seek over my outstretched feet. Little patterns whispering over the brown skin. The wind can be heard through the rustling of leaves. Angry nudging, doubtful thoughts. Don't make me do what I don't want to. Don't make me regret what I should never have to.
I think of the future whilst you sleep. How our paths might never cross again. I will miss having you being the most important person in my life.You will always be the most important person in my life,
You make me smile, I confess. I know, you whisper back. I might be in love, I hesitate. I know, you smile. But how can I know for sure? We never know anything for sure. And we stare silently at the ceiling as we let the distance creep between us.
Goodnight sexhay bear.
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