This house
slowly unraveling
peeling off in layers
            like citrus of sectioned
freshness
      squeezed out of bounds
                            my heart
                    all caught up
in rooms, furniture
f l y In g
no longer rooted
by familial gravity
My veins wrapped
in long strands of
              live wires
hugging each item tight
                 as if to unlock
       the memories that
scintillate within
and I
      radiate my  
            feelings of forever
to somehow imprint them
before they
whirl and swirl off
into the universe
Snippets of our lives
in angled slices
of colored mirror
a look
    a smile
       a glint in the eye
children laughing
               a garden surprise
               crazy kitchen singing
                      first solids and a bib
              first little sweet dance
      beatific smile from the crib
the bedroom for cuddles
little bugs wrapped in blankets,
so close and so dear
flanked by both of us,
guardians of light,
keeping out fears
Once, we claimed private time
velvet kisses down
trails of skin
hot lusted shadows
gently sliding within
This is how love corrupts
         how old batteries explode
            burning rust that erupts
                        as I break out
            from the mold
Now your words hit my skin
in bad chemical reaction
knives and arrows of rupture
as my bone marrow
                       gets fractured
Insides are spilling out
guts all over the floor
all this chaos created
as I split
     through
              the door

When did I become a joke to you?
When did I become the person you build up and up,
Only to tear down piece by piece by piece?

When did you start thinking it was okay to mess with my mind?
When did you start thinking that I was the perfect person
To break down and humiliate?

First I became your diary,
Then I became your therapist,
Next it was the advice giver
(Even though you never listened),
And now I’ve become the one you pretend to make plans with
Only to cancel at the moment you're supposed to arrive.

What gave you the idea that any of this was okay?
I’m so tired of the drama you bring.
I’m so tired of trying to help when you won’t listen.

I don’t think I can do this anymore
I don’t think I can be your friend;
Not if this is where it leads.

We planned an entire day,
And yet, here I am,
Writing this poem while watching TV
As I sit at home alone.

If you were looking for my breaking point
Then I can congratulate you on finding it,
You’ve finally hit the last straw.
No more!
I’m done!
This isn’t what friends do.

She resides on the street outside my office,
from sleepy mornings to crowded nights.
Apparently we share the same working hours.
The hands of Norther has begun to claw
through coats and bones with greediness.
And I worry that she might catch the cold.
Her patient resilience and humble posture,
head bowed down, hand stretched out
constricts my heart in terrified recognition.
She looks like a queen dethroned.
Where was her kingdom before this street?
She seems ageless but infinitely ancient.

I wonder...

What’s it like to watch legs pass you by,
briskly stomping away in annoyance.
How dare she remind us about the flaws of life.
That we are less human than we admit
behind our busy faces and comfortable shoes.
What’s it like begging for plated coins,
when you’ve sacrificed everything
in a foreign country digging for gold?
Humiliation convolutes my heart
every time the ignorant titter of the young
and the turned away faces of the old
depreciate her existence.

Despite my fidgeting just minutes ago
I slowed down by the corner,
searching an answer in her fathomless eyes,
The story of sacrifice is clasped in her hands,
a framed picture of a boy and a girl.
The scribble on it says: ”Please help,
me and my children are starving.”
I knelt beside her,
shyly stroking her weathered hand
before placing the hot Chai by her side
and laying down my tribute in her paper cup.
Her hand held warmth,
when grasping mine, lifting it to her lips.
The kiss and gentle blessing startled me.

Rising to my feet again and heading back
to my comfortable office...
...it started to rain.

Lately,
my words have hit the trash can
rather than decorating
the wall of fame.
My mind is on a constant frown,
deeply obsessed with you.
I wanted your life to be perfect,
not flawed with worries
about tomorrow.
I wanted you to reach the height
of unlimited potential.
But lately, I’ve been the one
delaying your deliverance,
creating treason and misery.
Making you less
than you were before.
Lately...
...my words tainted your soul
with disappointment.
Unmade your dreams
and disrupted the prosperity
of your wants.
Young titan - no longer mine,
Letting you go,
unchaining your heart
making you soar...

Equates...
unsurmountable  measures of pain...
...and alcohol.

Diary confessions