She said, "You make me feel like I'm in the wrong skin."

And as he sat there in contemplation of this newest revelation

She told him about Thursday
And how he'd kissed her that way
And how it made her feel whole
As if they were one being meant to be
Joined at the mouth,
But had snapped apart and were together
Again

She told him about the way her heart
Raced with anxiety
And her fingers shook every day
But when he kissed her everything went numb
And her brain thought slowly
And the world kept turning
And she wasn't afraid it would stop anymore

Finally,she told him about the skin
She told him that being away from him
M hr snap back to reality
But she had finally tasted happiness
And her old reality felt all wrong
She felt all wrong without him

She asked him if he loved her
She couldn't bear to leave him

He didn't hear a word

"But your skin is so beautiful."

And he leaned in and kissed her.

1
Like the  turning sheets
of a monthly calender,
life has layers after layers.

How would he know that ,
just a callow youth on  sea shore
playing with  smooth pebbles,
that was when he saw her first.

She was the woman who
taught him, whole cities lay merged
within a woman, like wave after wave,
she was a mystery like life itself.
There is no way to decipher.

2
They first met
in the city of light,
Diwali lamps were lit
in all courtyards,
It was an immortal moment
in his  life, he realized,
leading him gently to the light
which evaded him though he assiduously sought,
she parted without a word
Did she belong to someone else?
3
The city of sorrow,
yet again brought them  face to face
Ridden with angst of existence
he stumbled, was about to fall, then
he  could experience her iron will
more than a woman, she stood, like a pillar of strength,
she took his weary head in both hands, pressed to her breast,
pulled out the crown of thorns, their paths
diverged again, inexplicably complex, was their relationship.
4
In the city of guilt,
an unexpected meeting again,
they were surprised. Here, they were on their own.
They  wanted to take their lives in their hands,
in spite of the currents that pulled them to different directions.
But he knew all the while that her self, was divided between
three cities in her.They co-existed, Light.Guilt.Sorrow
will their love survive? Not all loves are intended to live long,
a parrot in his tree of loneliness always whispered.He pretended he didn't hear,
A game of dice, almost was their lives, mysterious forces did bet on their lives,
Having traveled through fire and water, she was beyond pleasure and pain,
Kali with a fiery nose stud, female power that overcomes all pain,
she became, that shattered his dreams for them.
He was thankful, to be awakened by her,
the light she lit, burned bright, within.

Now or never.He crossed the river.
Deliverance comes from an inner source,
otherwise all will end as an idiot's tale
signifying nothing.
Her flame lighted his wick, liberated him.
5
Fire spitting dragons one can tame,
but in the duel with demons of life,
it could be a blood letting end,
call it play of chance or what ever
they are the  easy game here
He  packed his backpack and
started to move eastwards,
Westward bound was she, invariably,
her heart had still a song left for him,
the void was filled, the pain was stilled
with anesthetics of mind.
Just for one last time they went to the beach,
watching the sunset was their good bye to each other.
They never met again.

Like the broken wing of songbird, my head hangs limply about my shoulders.  Bowed in resignation, I pay homage to powers I can no longer resist nor deny.  Reluctantly, I allow my skin to soak in this broken, gray home I’ve built for myself.  Like bathwater that’s gone cold, it offers no comfort; and like a tree’s sap, it clings to me.

My health has been stolen from this young body.  I have submitted; the flame of fight died long ago and the memory of its light has finally sputtered out.  With true darkness comes a plague baring the pit that grows in my gut and the lump that chokes the air from my throat.  And as my lungs catch fire, they scream for my heart – crying out for help.  A heart full of blood to put out the flames that lick their way up soft, pink tissue, but there is no relief to be found.  There is no heart full of blood, only a note that says, “Looking for greener pastures.  I’ll be sure to send a postcard.”

A sadness in my heart tonight
must be told, then dim that light.
To never see its face again,
and feel the pain that eats within.

A tragedy befell, you see,
and stormy nights still torture me.
She fell and died while in my keep,
and now it haunts my every sleep.

Her face so blank and eyes opaque,
my heart fell hard, and then to ache.
No turning back what time hath wrought,
my constant conscience battles fought.

A fear of storms was Mollie's fate,
the night was dark, the hour late.
As thunder rumbled in her chest,
and her heart pounded in her breast.

To run and hide, but never from
the storm that was about to come.
She climbed atop a place to see,
what made this horror, what could it be.

But leashes length, a noose had made.
Fell to her death, no more afraid.
I found her hanging from the chair,
part of my soul still hanging there.

For simple errors can take a life,
trip up the stairs, slip of the knife.
I put the wrong leash on that night,
it strangled her, I took her life.


Forgive me my fellow poets for this unintentionally dark poem. The tragedy happened a year ago and I am still trying to find some closure. Mollie was a little mixed dog that I was fostering for a local shelter. She was kind and playful, but deathly afraid of storms

Please justify your actions.
Give me some reason, and make it a good one, for what you did.
Did you just feign happiness?
Did you feed me lies that you knew would go straight from my ears to my heart,
Skipping over my head completely?
Why?
What purpose did you have?
And why, now that it's all over, do you insist upon making me feel like the villain?
You refuse to look at me, like I'm Medusa ready to turn you to stone.
But the only look you'll see on my face is a hurt confusion.
The anger went away quickly, and now there's this utterly perplexing hole left behind,
Because I still don't know why.
I know you were happy.
I know you genuinely cared about me, and us.
So what happened?
What broke in your mind, making you run away without so much as a glance backwards?
Nothing changed until you decided it should.
So give me just one reason, and make it a good one.

the faces of everyone I know turn gray as they push themselves further and further inside
pointing in every direction
uniformity
i shouldn't need so much alcohol for this
at least not god
trying to defy gravity by turning myself inside out
just floating across the raindrops from under your gray expressions

why would you stop beating?
vibrating?
why would you stop sweating whenever you love someone?
why would you try to lift something that shouldn't be lifted?
why would you fear what's intangible?
why would you stop throwing yourself in the stench of the town's hollow eyes?
why won't you fall when you should stay upfront?
why would you push yourself away?
why would you calculate fear? especially when it's so beautiful? even if it's unreal?
why would you turn pale? so you could just say fuck you!?
so you could join the grey faces?
so you could think that there's a difference between what you feel and what others love?
so that you could just stop shouting from the top of your lungs until your heart would tear apart into hundreds of thousands of gods of your own?
so you could see only for a moment and then be blinded by your own reflection?
so then join the group so others can take your place
even if it's useless
even if it's horrible
even if it's just your lungs giving us everything we need
sometimes
even if it's just carelessness
on their part
even if they're imperfect
even if you're perfect
even if it counts
even if it could actually mean something
even if it will kill you in the end?
will you please stop now?
just stop sitting with your head pushed so hard against yourself that you turn into a mosaic of the town
stop making bridges out of yourself
stop reinventing everyone's love stories and
stop living your parents' lives
stop thinking that they love you because they do
stop painting flowers on every broken window
and stop harming what isn't there

even if you want it to

I give myself a break
to slip into the lonely woods
to rest awhile on the green cape
drown in the seasons’ moods.
I seek a patch of soft grass
sheltered in the shade of a tree
smell from the air the wooded hush
and spend awhile carefree.
Just then my eyes come to rest
on the canopied acacia tree
where the birds dressed for spring fest
twitter in boundless glee.
I want this frame to freeze in my stare
sealed in my heart for good
I wouldn’t last but it would be there
my time in the beauteous woods.

I stood alone with eyes closed,
in the perfect view of the sky above,
generation swept below my feet,
waffle laugh filled the street,
they talked, without speaking,
they sang, without sharing,
empty, their soul filled with darkness.

Free are the doomed, the idle, the fallen,
for they are breathless, of this stagnate air.
I stood alone with my psyche open,
with quivering bones, and steady thoughts.
Flash of time, was catching my breadth,
ties of love, care and passion,
left behind under cloud of dust,
they say when your time is here,
you see the flash of your sins, mortal,
only, under the dark of my eyes shut,
i saw the face of my fallen love,
the reason of my life, the reason for my death.
I reached my arm to embrace,
i took the leap, into the space,
my face kissed by gust, my hair filled the dust,
the sky felt departed, as i inched the earth,
no cause to commend, no regrets to mend,
i feel free, i see my wings,
i feel young, i see the springs.
today i fly,
behind i leave is a lie,
heaven or hell i can't care much,
for freedom my heart clutch.
The world went quite as I hit the dirt,
the sweet pain seized my soul,
blood set free off my vein,
my last breath, drifted,
as it rose up to the blue.
I lay there cold, untied,
with a halo of blood.
Shattered, unwanted,
bordered by the living slaves,
silent screams bury the unwanted grin,
hollow prayers crucify the reaching hand,
in the end there was just me,
in my death, I am free.

Late at night when I
talk to you,
I can feel my fingers
quietly tapping my keyboard,
and every letter is filled
with expectations;
every word is a part of me,
moments of loving you
spill onto my screen and
you won't see anything
but a casual 'good night'
or a question about your day,
you won't notice the careful
punctuation or how every
letter was typed with consideration
and love and crushed dreams.
The beauty of the modern world
is that I can love you without
you ever knowing that your
words silently break my heart.