Fleeting, dragging me along like
Undertow, no one else knows, yet
Clearly, it's just wishful thinking.
Kings would be thankful for clarity.

Because it hurts,
Because you can't anymore.

You're done with tears.
I'll have yours instead.


For I can't shed any.

Scent of weak oranges flows through the air

Coupled with bitter lavender

Out of use sour ashtongue as it tumbles


Orange flows through the glass


Posted with the lack of words


*hey, i miss you

Your manner of speech is black,
And your gaze is grey.

One thing's for sure, everything is exactly the same, the way it started, as well as the way it ended.

Hold on tight, to my breakbeat heartbeat.
It's the final chapter for this book.
The book between us.


Bend in the breeze, to the wind of change.
Let the fingers trace runes once again.
Ignite the same feelings, gone but not forgotten.


These feelings, sieved and strung out.
Like an irregular heartbeat.
Barely hanging in there, with chaos ruling it.
Time for change.

In the end, the road to my own hell was paved repeatedly with the best of intentions : and the lack of understanding not everything is a nail to my hammer.*

Bittersweet chocolate runs down the cheek, sweet caramelized sugar around the lip.
A wonderful realisation : not everything was meant to fall into place ; not everything could go my way.


Half-boiled eggs with light soya sauce, dribbling down the spoon, crunching toast with soothing jam.
She was the flame and everyone was a moth, I recognised it for what it was, still conflagrated.

Beauty** :
A lapse in judgement brought to life.

(Some actors in the story bear resemblance to what we imagined lost)


Lust  :

A soft growl into a low roar.

(Come here often?)



Rage  :

The cacophonous tears of grief turned into fuel for fire.


(You cannot possibly understand the hate I have.)


Joy  :

Their faces turned up just as quickly as their skin prickled, and their eyes shone with primal brilliance.


(Smile.)



Bitterness  :


The hard, long gulp going down your throat as you feel yourself slowly choking.


(Her uncertainty led to such)



Acceptance   :


A man who thought he had everything under control, and realising he doesn't.

(Nothing ever, stays the same.)

Sadness  :


A mourning dove.


(Looking at you through the glass)



Grief  :


Head down, arms raised towards the sky.



(But all I want is you.)


Her  :


The intensity of fire, with none of its ire.
The promise of earth, without diminish.
The mutability of water, yet soothing.
The vastness of air, and space for us.
Our basic space.

I'll draw the curtains as many times as I need to.

Your ghost is still here.
But while I'm still here,

I'll walk off into the dark side of the moon.

To reconcile with myself,
What I lost when you swept the floor with your ashes.

Cold sweat running down the face

Mouth clenched in anticipation of the yawning pain


The open wound festering would've been preferable to the sealing, stitching of it.

Dour expression on my face as I make the choice

Because I know, I know I have to do this.


Til we meet again.

The gravity of assertion, the innocuous chuckles and giggling, with the eyes of experience and eagerness.

Illusions that I don't even seem to be aware of, the deeper meanings behind my words and low monotonous chuckling.

With every move certain, until it becomes unsure anymore what's behind the door.

Succumb, and pull on my strings as much as I can to you.

Fall under this house of dominance.
Kneel before the end of choices.
Understand your will doesn't exist anymore.

Call me angry,
call me needy,
call me clingy,
tell me I'm full of want.

But you should know, when you kissed me for the first time,
the maelstrom in my heart waned, and the chaos that wrapped her head around it dissipated.

for only with you do my soles get set on fire,
the dark of the night becomes more welcoming like day is supposed to be,


and the love, you've got the love.

You.

I don't know what it is that I see in you.

Neither do I know how that this came to be.

These logistics demand that the evergreen status of my mind request the answer to it.

But as for me, I've decided.
I'll stop fighting.

I'll let these waves caress my skin.

I'll indulge myself in these feelings.

Maybe one day I'll wake up and realise it was but an illusion.

A dream.

An inception born from a desire to connect.

But then again.

From my desire, there was surrender.
From my gradual surrender, power.

I love you.

The eighth in a long line of failures,

Luring all he could use to build his empire of rust.

Lusting after impossible trajectories,

Trachea wheezing in sorrow,

Rowing down the empire of rust.