How do you thrive when everything around you is stunted?
How do you make an innocent whistle sound ghoulish?
I need to spread my wings, sitting by my ***** window.
But wait. How do I conjure myself the imaginary wings?

Square one.

Simple is no longer simple.
My love is battered by the weight of the world.
Constant need to sell my time, when all I want to do is walk on soft, warm grass.

I am told, with this struggle, I will appreciate happiness more.

Do I?

She caresses the guy’s cheek asking for money when all she wants to do is leave a mark.

She sweet-talks the guy by the curb when all she wants to do is hurt him... hurt him bad.

She eyes him from across the room, signaling him to head back, when all she wants to do is stab him with the table knife.

She peers through the tinted car window and flashes a pearly smile when all she wants to do is rip his throat off.

She stands by the street corner, clapping and twirling in her lehenga trying to get his attention when all she wants to do is to light him on fire.

I am sitting in a cafe. Badly lit. I am safe here sitting with a guy who thinks he can eye me the way he is.

But hey. I wouldn't know the half of it, right?

“What is your favourite drink?”
The world is falling apart

“Picture a mango tree for me”
Cascading cascading…

“Let’s swing in that old tyre swing”
Sure!

"Can it get any harder than it already is? Life?”
Slumber with me

“You hardly say anything. Do you want me to get you a drink?”
But isn't it too dark?

"What is your favourite drink?”

She crumbled with every gale
Darkened, draining of all colour
With an underground fire, short lived yet somehow eternal
All that was left in me
Was a trace of happiness and rush from her ashy *****
Breathless and radiant, she leaves me feeling
Hard to quit, hard to forget
She is what she is

Fifty a day, nil the next
The crevices on my lips are a sultry addition today, an imperfection tomorrow
The future is full of prospects, tic toc tic toc…now a void
Emotions and ideas are overrated.
Today I am me. Tomorrow who will I be?
Thousand a day, nil the next…

He was walking up the stairs yet again
I stood by the entrance of the bar with a cigarette between my lips
He smiled his crooked smile as he approached
BEAT SKIP BEAT
I look away after throwing a casual smile his way
Every step he takes toward me builds urgency
I look up at him again and he walks toward me with open arms
The second seems eternal. I feel like I need to bury myself in him. Like a little girl.
I try to prolong the hug as much as I can, soak myself in him.
I inhale his scent
Coffee and melon
I am ready now. To forget him.
Because that’s all he is
Coffee and melon…