I’ll try, and I’ll try again.
but only until
I am ****** into
the whirlpool of hopeless dreams
and I can’t quite recall
what it feels like
to try.
without failing
I’ll feel, and I’ll feel again.
but only until
I can’t remember
what it feels like
to feel.
without hurting
I’ll love, and I’ll love again.
but only until
I am blinded by
the illusion of
what it feels like
to be loved.
without losing
I nurture, nourish, pamper
these thoughts that form petty patterns
that my mind relentlessly shoots
into the ever inviting arms of my heart
that will accept them, graciously so
Then bleed, and bleed again.
but only until
they recover from
the pin ****** that make them leak
and contaminate my soul.
So I’ll breathe, and I’ll breathe again.
but only until reality
that formed a neat sheet of glass
shatters into countless shards
to reveal the truth that it fought to hide.
and I can’t remember
what it feels like
to breathe.
without dying
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
It was always the in between.
Never soaring high up in the sky
Never drilling deep into the crux
Floating mid air, blinded by mist.
It was always the in complete.
Never absolute happiness so immense
Never devastating sadness so crippling
Thriving in illusion, numbed by nerves.
It was always the in secure.
Never swimming in the seas of positivity
Never drowning in the floods of negativity
Steadied yet confused, by the vacuum of neutrality.
It was always the in sufficient.
Never enough, no, push harder
Never the best, no, mould neater
Polish your flaws, sharpen your knife.
It was always the in definite.
Never the striking scarlet, bold and bright
Never the subtle silver, sparkling and humble
Galvanised grey, constant yet vulnerable.
It was always the in finite.
Never held back by painted walls
Never dictated by judgments nor beliefs
Breathing to explore, the potential of the seamless.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 2:54 PM UTC
when one stray thought
leads to a nasty contemplation
and then yet another, agonising reflection
until you can’t seem to remember how to breathe
what will, what control?
when this merciless beast, one sleepless night
resolves to squeeze and yank and pull
until you helplessly break down into shards that
you will have to warily adhere with the sore fingers of your soul
and clutch close to yourself the next morning
that dawns on you like a hangover that you sublimely pretend
to have so you don’t have to dwell on what happened
in the night that had bygone
your consciousness screams out to your being
that thrives in the most perfect, miraculous situations
happy, overjoyed, you should be
yet the gnawing monster finds its way into your soul
effortlessly dodging all the blows that rationality throws its way
and this makes for the end of
the peace that once
reigned on your
struggling
spirit
what use, what reason?
of this vain, uncompromising passage of time
when the same could have been used to give rise
to a sensational experience, reminisces to treasure for life
or perhaps to illusions of the expectations your psyche ever so eagerly
puts forward to your intellect, for careful and everlasting contemplation
it’s all a choice, they’ll say
life is only what you make of it
don’t give them the power to dictate your bliss
and there will be nothing they can do that could
bother you severely so
but sighting oasis after oasis
days after days of persisting thirst
you lose hope of finding your way
failing, to notice the gleaming spring
of chaste liquid that lies
beyond the last,
only the last
towering dune
that you refuse
to conquer
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
I have limbs,
I have feelings.
Why won’t they move?
I have a mind,
I have a soul.
Why won’t they stir?
I have time,
I breathe away my youth.
Why won’t it bloom?
I look closer,
I have love.
Why won’t I give back?
I have a choice,
I could digress
Why won't I surrender?
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 12:48 PM UTC
why do we resist?
when all the prudently weaved complications
that float stubbornly between us
creating a dense and seemingly impenetrable wall
amid the radars of our aspirations
can be avoided with the mere uplifting
of chapped lips?
why do we hold back?
when all that it takes is a simple
slip of tongue, rushed and hasty
for that lilting glance
to transform
into a
radiant
tête-à-tête
resembling a story that could
possess countless endings of every kind
and still have the power to effortlessly thrill?
why won’t you let go?
when all that you’ve got to lose
is the fear, relentless but futile
whose departure will leave blank space
for all the caged expressions to duly escape
and soar in the sky that had always longed
and cherished their presence?
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 3:52 AM UTC
like a shiver that penetrates your soul
upon seeing a burst of playful colours that flirt
and tease your lingering eyes
like the pores of your skin that graciously rise
when you can't help the smile that
meanders its way on your lips after
having come across the words that every speck of your being
was screaming out to your deafened consciousness
like the realization having finally dawned
upon your veiled intellect
that the spark that you hid
so cautiously nurtured
and patiently preserved has in turn
been suffocating noiselessly
under the self induced smog
waiting to morph
into a full-blown
raging
wildfire.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC