Acceptance


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I don’t want to count the stars,

And wonder at those glistening points

Nor wander through the untouched thicket, Pffft!

Who has time for all this!

Well,

I don’t ask for much. Never have.

There is

Simply not enough time, nor patience

For self is the centre of it all.

Minutes fall around me, hours roll

Away, like pebbles

From the hands of a child

But do I dare whimper? Or shed a tear?

Negative.

Thick skin as they say, like cow hide

Beaten down, so many times

I hardly feel the pain.

Sometimes,

Those you love the most are the ones who enjoy watching you bleed. And

sometimes you need to ask yourself

Have all that love been in vain?

Hours roll, unfeeling, just as years have rolled before them

With the heaviness of machines, well oiled

Tired eyes, tired heart, spent and alone watch on

Indifference.

Where did it begin?

Where to end? Should it end? Questions

Those painful hooks, tear into the flesh

I don’t wear white, for it shows off the red

Of a wounded bleeding skin.

Haven’t you heard?

Simplicity is the hardest thing.

Less is more, more is less

Who makes these rules, where do they bend?

Can they bend?

Questions. They know

No answers. Life

Is such, as we constantly tell ourselves.

But is it really so? Who makes these rules?

Where do they bend? Can they bend?

No one knows, does

Anyone care?


Long distance


Burning_Love_by_Pixelnase

Here I sit and

Spin hours away, as days

Drag their feet across the floor making

A terrible racket.

You, in your acheful distance

Tug at my veins squirting

Purple blood, blue

With longing.

I pine for you,

You pine for me and

Somehow we

End up in each other’s arms

Sooner or later. Not bad

For real life. But,

Right here, right now

My soul longs, for a scent of you.

Minutes fall around me, like shrapnel

From a splintered dream, if

I pay attention, embrace the shards for a moment of comfort, I

Always end up bleeding, tending

To my own wounds, with

Old rags of memories.

Utter nonsense, this distance

An unwanted boulder, in the midst of our warm, tranquil sea.

A beautiful yearning, yet

A crippling hunger that

Feeds on strands of happiness, falling through the blinds of absence.

This won’t do.

I miss you.

 

 

 


Untitled till September


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Yesterday I felt your absence,

Right beside me, like a perilous drop

From which I edged away, fearing for life.

Emptiness overwhelmed, overthrew

What little sanity was left, as

Hip hop beats pelted all around

Like paralyzing darts at a

Sore, swollen heart.

Have you ever felt how lonely, how barren

These club beats make you feel?

Well, you know how this goes,

Every time I look at myself in the mirror I

Try so desperately to catch maybe

A glance of your smile in my own eyes, a splinter

Of a memory perhaps trapped within

From when I last held you.

Well, you know how this goes.

When feelings overflow I throw

Handfuls in the air and catch

What I can on paper, try and build

A bridge to you with words, but

Does that bring you closer? No, but I try.

And there I sat in a lonely cab homeward

Fingers itching, to ruffle your hair

Heart a wriggling mess, scratching itself in a frenzy

Mad with longing, just for a feel of you.

Yes, so your absence gives me words, bittersweet

On the tip of the tongue, but

I’d much rather have you instead.


Mopping up


The city clothed itself in sombre robes

The trees stood silent, leaves no longer

Dilly-dallying in the wind

Respectful reverence, or was it

Petrified fear?

I saw your face through the haze, petrol fumes

Clouded my judgement. You

Touched my hand and smiled

Into my eyes. Cue – this is where I melt, into your arms

Helplessly, aimlessly wander, let you engulf me, liquid

Like water

But something had frozen. I guess I do not melt anymore

It was strange yet comforting, I needed you no more.

Yet words splatter the walls at unforseen moments,

At the absence of a janitor, I am left

Mopping up the walls in silence.


Living inside my head


Inside_My_head_by_yuenyathei

Gnawing at thoughts these tiny little creatures,

Scuttling all over, pricks sometimes

Those pointy meddling feet, numerous

In composition. Hurt

Comes at unexpected times.

Somewhere drips bleeding, and I

Think to myself that

People are meddlesome insects and I

Find solace only in my thoughts, so

Loyal and so intimate.

Walls have been built and I

Wouldn’t know where to begin to

Dismantle them, nor

If I would ever want to, the

Naive and trusting thing that I am, the

Humble clay walls that I’ve built,

Often misunderstood

For Citadels of pride.

I

Find my thoughts to be my friends and they

Keep me occupied enough, conversing

In varied tones, I

Live inside my head.


Ode to a muse


My phantom, my muse

You tease me, you test me dearly

With random smiles, a careless kiss from time to time

So tender on my lips, a painful brush, but

I quite like the pain.

My beautiful spirit, you

Have been away for far too long that

The springs have dried up and

The parched land yearns for a drop

Of your bountiful soul.

My sweetest spark, you

Give me words but never stories

Give me notes, but never full songs and

I’ve been waiting far too long.

My animus, afflatus you

Appear, disappear like

The April lightning, so sudden

So startlingly profound that you

Leave me gasping every time.

My impulse, my  revelation, you

Dearest darling child who

Tugs at a heart string and runs away

And hides behind a dream, my

Ruthless, gentle child.

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Nostalgia


I remember those

Rainy September afternoons when

Wind brought you in

Like a whisper, lingering

In candied gasps

All enveloping.

 

Apple pie baking,

Spicy golden fragrance, reminiscent

Of tinsel and Christmas

Decorations, first

And foremost, tasted with nose

And then by tongue.

 

 And you

Bringing in, an armful of smiles

Staggering with the weight

Of joy.

 

Rain

Beating down on the windows then

Ceasing

Like the calming heartbeat

After a happy run in the sun.

 

You

A shining warmth, a

Sprinkling of sugar,

Caramelized

On a freshly baked bun.  

 

Dilly-dallying leaves floating

Earthwards, frolicking

In the tempest, evoked

By the muffled rain

Smell of fresh wood, wafting

Drifting, circling

In a note of music, each word uttered

Turning into luscious persistent

Poetry.

 

Sweet tea made with just

The right amount of love, warming

From the inside and you

Taking over, my soul

And my mind and I

Smiling at the thought, feeling silly

Yet warm, from the glow

Of your beatifying love.

 

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