I'm not a regular anymore.. I'm like a black cloud stumbling upon you some days. I smile. You nod. While you don't notice I break down too. Raining here and there. Feeling a little better I fly once more. I've a long way to go. Only to stop in front of you again. A circle. But I promise I'm not a regular anymore...
"I breathed out, pulling my fingers on album photos My eyes watered, shaky hands tuned to touch your letters Tear-striken pages, still making me cry And the promises paused there waiting for you I waited for the tears to stop But as always it disobeyed. I'm not sure how long I have been crying Weeks, months or years All I know, my soul is still mourning From the day, you stole my rights to dress up and wait for you You did fulfil your promise You came back But in a cascade, adorned with flag I stood still, feigning your proud stance Remaking my each broken parts. Everyday I woke up Gathered all my strengths And try to compensate your absence In the life of your son and parents. Pity in some eyes, lust in others A widow, I am, thriving in this cruel society, fighting further. Today I'm wearing your favorite saree Shrouding in your aura And look how your proud wife is glowing, in the light of diyas A promise to you To make my son, grow up Brave and fierce Just like you..."
You will find her in nights Sitting near the window Staring at the moon And basking in the celestial light. Obscure darkness all around Enlivening her tender soul Cold breeze passed by Caressing her black seaweed like traces Unmasking the cold beauty behind it. A void heart, soft yet cold Craving for warmth, searching Only to find in cold moonlit nights. A fairy exhaled from heaven Wings broken, skin burnt But her soul is shinning Even the stars are lusting after her. Sometimes I found her playing flute Those luscious lips mumbling a soft mellifluous sound Every chord meticulously sheathed with love Calling out for the unknown, silently. Myriad of galaxies crumbled infront of her But she remain motionless Lost in her own milky way Sitting there till the stars fade away. I wonder Why? Why she sits there every night, waiting? For whom is she waiting? At least once I want to meet that person Who made her wait; to ask the questions I brewed myself. I promised to stay, to join with her relentless moon gazing But when the sleep lazily stumbled upon, my promise falters Questions lured me into oblivion With the assurance of the dreams of the beautiful immortal, my eyes closed on its own... @VodkaLips
My body ached, Everytime I move, it hurts Hair tangled, body sticky Not a sight to behold. Standing near the window I stared the busy streets below A cigarette was lighten and found its way to my lips A puff was dragged Smoke inside, smokes outside Some on my face, some in my lungs Working its magic on the melancholy, I live.
Passers keep staring, my black and blue body, like a hawk Lust evident in their eyes Wonder why? I'm stark naked, from head to toe Those stares don't bother me anymore I ain't the subject of eyesore. Dissipating smokes, made me think about past I wonder what is that? My conscious provide me pictures of bodies Above me, under me Like a doll, they used me, they enjoyed me Paying me some money they channel their inner beast on me.
A knocking sound, broke my reverie Bringing me back to the night Dressing up, I saw someone in the mirror In a skinny outfit, a voluptuous body Red luscious lips, those black doe eyes All ready to be the prey of the night...
Who would have thought that a Ferris wheel ride will turn your life around? And one day, you woke up feeling like a stranger in your own body. Suddenly, you're walking in someone else's shoes and cotton candies don't taste the same anymore.
Everything is overwhelming. It's like you're trapped in a bubble where fairy tales don't exist and monsters are real. And it terrifies you. But you know you have to deal with it. There's no simply escaping it.
l know you miss a lot of things, how life used to be carefree. And if there's a time machine somewhere, you'd happily ride back to a childhood spent under the sun, where life tasted like popsicles and lemonade. Back to the times when you shower love like confetti and tooth fairies visit you while you were sleeping.
As you get older, you realize you can't save the world by lunchtime. You're tangled in a web sketched in sharpies and erasers aren't enough to correct one's mistakes.
Life is strange in a familiar way. It happens as seasons do.You survive one after another. You grow in between full stops and question marks.
Smile and face the sun. Believe me, better days are yet to come. And when it happens, all the loose connections from the past to the present will fit like jigsaw pieces. In time, everything will make perfect sense.
Its been long, so long since we talked. This time, your text didn't squeeze my heart the way it used to, I still smiled tho. 'Do you still write?', you asked . I recall the time you called me your poetry. 'I do.' I don't have the heart to abandon my poetry the way you did. 'writing stories lately' Just that you are no longer the first person to read them, I wanted to text . Not that I don't want to talk to you, you just ain't accessible anymore,.. not for me. I sent you my latest love story. 'Changed genres, have you?' 'Oh yeah, just trying.', I reply plotting myself in the story wishing you did the same. 'This is so beautiful. I'm not sure about the ending tho. I think an incomplete one will make it even more interesting.' I just shook my head and smirked, of course you like incomplete endings. 'So, is this fictional or is there a lucky man beneath the words?'. I contemplated writing there is indeed someone, more expressive, more caring, more..but 'No lol, its just some silly fantasy, no personal experience..yet.' I couldn't see your face but wished there was disappointment, that little crease on your forehead that appeared when you were hurt and vivid signs of /oh/ in your eyes. 'Oh, I see'. I know you were thinking if I had anything written for you, for us but you won't ask. The truth is, neither have I nor will I ever write about us, for I still wear your touch on my skin like glitter sprinkled on hands. No matter how much you rub it, it just won't get off. And I still hear you humming near my neck like a little melody of a lost song running in your mind but you'd never know the complete track and the tune will continue to haunt you. No matter how distracted you are, you don't want it to end either. If I write about us, I fear the cologne will wear off, the glitter be washed away and some part of the track will visit the person reading it and I can't, can't share you with anyone, not even with words. I can't lose you..again. 'Are you still there?' 'Yeah, I am.' I will always be. 'Umm, will you write about me, about..us?' I smiled. Never, never,never ,my mind uttered. I sent a wink ';))' , sighed and turned my phone away.
~You like incomplete endings, don't you?~ ____________________________________________
कुछ रिश्ते अखबार कि उस किश्ती की तरह होते हैं थोड़ा सम्भलते हुए, थोड़ा सेहेजते हुए कुछ दूर बैहकर बिखर जाते हैं, कागज़ी ही तो है आख़िर|
I'm lying. Waiting for the demons to consume me. Tired of praying, I'm lost. Please just find me. Before I pass out, I beg you to find me.
After all those rains, I'm still in left in flames, Why there isn't an answer? After all the stabbings are over, the pain is just same, Why can't I feel numb for a while??? Old scars and tear stains are set afresh now.I write to find peace, while flying in hurricanes, I send hope notes. But, I'm tired now. I'm tired of breathing, existing, smiling just for no reason. While I hide from the storms, and secretly pray, the stars know 'when and why' of my each and every tear. The stars fall down in a group.
/The meteor shower, on the summer nights, passing straight through my soul, winds up my scars altogether and make them pain all at once. All of my wounds burn now, at the same time. *What a wonderful world!*/
I play those songs and begin writing, when the song stops, I'm pulled into another scenery. A place to which I've never been. A dazed state which resumes everytime the song playing stops. Again reality hits and gets my soul back from the unknown space when the song continues to play. Just like that my sentences, remain incomplete. Like phrases trying to give an image of hope, but aren't actually hopenotes. Spell hope and I create magic. Writing different parables filled with aesthetic versions of hope. Adding pink glitters to the grey-ed writes, I painted an oenomal mirage of optimistic synonyms. Many unusual positive and encouraging similes turned out to cure my burning spirit. But, the core matter that was visible to me set up the ashes of the wounds of my burnt soul like wines.
/I'm a flower. Yearning for rains I leave, Yearning for sunshines I cry. But nothing comes to me, except storms. And still, I gonna bloom on my own. /
Hovering in the clouds, I wait for some day, where the breeze doesn't graze my fresh wounds anymore. No insomnia has entered into the frame yet, but I sleep more and more and more to escape from realities. The worse part of sleeping is, dreaming about running in the same place. Like if it's a marathon, for no reason running in an unknown domain like crazy. Tears are like hearth, holding fire in my soul. Still, when people describe and designated tears as to something that's extremely weak, as of some faint hearted's melancholy, ɪ ʟᴀᴜɢʜ.
I know one day I have to catch the train. The train call 'death'. Life is a short journey I have lots to do in it. People I have yet to meet People I have to greet. Some pains yet to be recieved Some losses yet to be grieved. Few more sleepless nights in bed Few more tears to shed. I want some more time to repent And mend the corners where they are bent. Some more memories to make Few more stories to fake. More of music to hear More of legs to shake, before the silence appear and destiny puts a break. I have to fall in love and beautiful feelings to share. I want someone to mourn for me when alone in my grave I lay bare. I want maximum from the minimum. I want to be smiling insane with no loss no pain I want to keep my chest filled with glory and nothing to feel sorry. I want to feel like a boss In this world full of chaos. Then I will leave this life mundane And catch that very last train.