She was the innocent child thrown out to the wolves and learnt to crave his knife to lead the pack instead. Adventure was her snowflake that beckoned her to come out and play. Through the looking glass at the end of the tunnel she stood; taking her breath away was the last thing on his mind. She was never his or her own. She belonged to something far too unknown. She detested recycled stories of boy-meets-girl. Yet, she got entangled in his dream catcher and all she could do was stare. Weak men ran away from her cause they lacked the strength to fix the broken. He was a fixer and knew exactly how many and where the stitches go!
A late night walk in the corridors that she didn’t know a year ago,
She stared at the twins as they put on a show.
They played hide and seek, finding herself alone on that street;
She watched them gamble with the dice,
the amusement of finding one’s vice.
Treating it like a game, she found this and never felt the same.
Everyone begs to be found, you’ll always have something to hide,
All you need to do is free your imprisoned pride.
Let’s call a truce and change the spots,
shuffle the same old rules by marking on ‘em new dots.
Shake up your faith and stop playing the fool,
let’s pretend its your first day back at school.
She stands in front of you, fifty-one floors under,
this game of hide and seek wasn’t her biggest blunder.
She was a swimmer but knew how to drown first,
for others who only saw in her the worst.
Never made an effort to grab onto a float,
she rejoiced her drown, with a cocktail of happy-gloat!
Sometimes she wondered if she drowned in the depths of her own heart, the sound of a raging drum proclaimed her to start.
So she picked up her mighty pen; seven, eight, nine and ten;
inscribed the digital ink with experiences in sums,
Ready or not, here she comes!
If there was one thing in the world I know for sure, is a broken heart will find no cure. Your heart will cling to every last drop of blood it drains, your eyes will speak of every bone it strains: Words as such had been spoken into her mind, yet she fell in love with his kind.
Build me a rib cage that will protect my heart against his magnetic stance, clasp the blinkers tighter so my love doesn’t stand a chance. It was no one’s fault but mine, it was my heart that runs on a faulty artery line. I cracked open my rib cage to selfish tongues, exposed the love that breathes air into my lungs.
We shared the same blue skies and I walked his holy ground, all I wanted was to hear his heart’s sound. Walked into his palace on a day the stars worked overtime, and made the winds whistle with the dancing chime. Rainfall filled the darkness making them unheard, lighthouse to lighthouse I walked without saying a word.
What made the distant cities wonder, skyfalled people that mocked its thunder. With a heart from built by nightmares and eyes like two constellations of fire, she kissed him leaving him in a bottomless well of desire. Her heart of boundless benevolence met with a glow of his magnificence; Only to realise it was just a dream, the reality she lived in drove her to extremes.
One day felt like he is right around the corner and the love she felt grew stronger, Some days feel like he is impossible to achieve, is this the fate she had to believe? Her life swings in-between this one day and some day!
She had late night conversations with her imaginary lover, when she woke up her suffering felt like a heart shoved under a tower.
My heart inside my rib cage has been marked as easily flammable,
proceed with caution it may not be explainable.
Build me a rib cage and lock away its vault,
they singled out the heart as if it was the one at fault.
For a girl who grew up on a heavy dose of E.E. Cummings, John Keats and William Shakespeare; she knew that love was a hit and miss in the tragedy of a world that swipes right or double-taps to get someone’s attention.
In cafe, by the city highway;
In the middle aisle, future ex-lovers sitting across from each other (in denial)
Oblivious of that making their hearts flutter,
will one day deplete their tissues causing all the clutter.
Dating someone is defined by the number of likes their happy selfies got on ‘gram
Happiness becomes subjected to camera rolls that won’t give a damn.
These will someday be empty deleted items notifications just like their soul,
In flashback you can see how he made her eyes roll.
All dates including these come with an expiry (date):
love doesn’t happen by chance, the wise ones say its fate!
If only I could get a date for once,
love wouldn’t pronounce me as such a dunce.
The quaintness of a bar in the heart of my city breathes an air of charming, old-fashioned walls, it echoes of the days and night I sat there drinking my gin and tonic pouring my words onto pieces of paper or into hearts.. it reminds me that modern life is convenient but the quaintness of certain walls never die!
The feelings rush into your heart as fast as gasoline setting on fire. It has been too long since you’ve felt this way and it burns deep. You try to play it cool as much as possible, but you’re the type to wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s inevitable – the wants, the needs, the desires.
Everyone tells you to let him come to you. At this age though, why is that still a thing? You’re over the games, you’ve dealt with being alone and you’ve experienced love followed by heartbreak. You know what you want and that shouldn’t be your fault.
The days you’re together are magical, and the nights those lead into are a fairytale. You start getting to know everything about each other. Staying up until 4 am asking and answering every question imaginable becomes routine. He gives no indication you’re moving to fast, no sign of turning back, no thought of wanting to slow down.
Then there come the nights he wants nothing to do with you. You’ve discussed the whole communicating thing and expressing feelings. You’ve had endless talks about your sensitivity and your neediness. At the time, he believes “it’s cute”, “it’s endearing”, but in reality, its pushing him away-until he’s gone.
Feelings of insecurity and hopelessness surround your brain. Second guessing yourself becomes a daily activity. Why isn’t he inviting me out with his friends? Why doesn’t he want to constantly spend time with me? Why doesn’t he try to go above and beyond? You’re used to being the pursued not the one pursuing and it’s killing you.
How is it fair that because feelings overwhelm your brain and because you acknowledge them, you’re in the wrong? I want a love that is pure and magical but apparently that is too much to handle.
I’m an independent woman. I am strong, I am smart, I am outgoing but all of that combined with knowing what I want, is against society’s norms. I am not allowed to express how I feel, I am crazy if I am too interested in someone, I am needy if I want to see the person I like multiple times a week.
I can’t control it though. I deserve a person that doesn’t just “handle” me but truly wants me. I deserve to not only feel happiness from myself but also from my partner. While some might think that’s too much to ask, it shouldn’t be.