Tonight, months later, I lay here accompanied with only
The leisurely winds teaching my cigarette smoke to dance
And a rage as present as the hole your father put into your playroom wall when you were five.
Did you mean a word of it?
The night we spent together on a stranger's front porch
Because their car wasn't in the driveway
It was you, me, and that bottle of whiskey you'd stolen from your mother's liquor cabinet.
You were tracing the lines of my palms
Whispering promises into them
Until intoxication brought us slurred words and sleepy eyes.
Since that night I've wondered if mountains would choke
On the echoes of me screaming your mangled promises into them or
If the trees would suddenly blush in shades of gold and red; a temporary Autumn.
I never knew how it felt to drown until you left me choking on the sound of your name.

There used to be a time
When I was ineffably afraid of the darkness.
The beguiling blackness
That seemed to size me up
And consume me whole
I suffered
From an acute fear of the unknown

But I'm a little bigger now
And the darkness beckons
It's the truth that makes me groan
The everyday mundane
The cycle of the known
And now, all I wish for
Is to ride out into the darkness with you
Not to Sunsets
But to a place in the valley
Where everyone can see us
And yet no one can see us
Take me away to the beautiful unknown.

the human heart and the human mind
two paradoxical entities, that seem
forever at odds
and yet, for a pair that has
such incontestably opposing objectives
the two are rather similar in their endeavours
to achieve the means
to their respective ends.
they're both searching.
constantly.
and they don't seem to know
what they're looking for.
but the day they stop seeking
is the day the heart will stop beating
and the mind will abandon its working.


raaste alag, manzil ek.

I might be  a little mad
A lot more than a little
But you'll never know it
You'll never see it
Except
If you let me take a peak
At your own madness
Give me a glimpse
Of your delighted delirium
Let me have a look
At your affable aberrations
Your lovely lunacies
And your faithful foolishness
And your foolish faithfulness
Give me a piece of your
Deceitful delusions
And your happy hysteria
And I'll give you a slice
Of my own crazy cake
Balanced with utter unbalance
And dire derangement
And adorable absurdities
And the naked truth
And mad, mad me
Show me your madness
And I'll give you,
Me.

Rehashing the rare
Out with the new,
In with the old.
She's always had a thing
For the things that exude
A quirkiness and a bucolic charm
The smell of old books
The black and the white
Good ol' Chaplin, James Dean
And the Sound of Music
The Beatles, a tape recorder
High-waisted pants
And the gramophone
And a rustic old bar
With a gruff bartender
Who's off his rocker
But he'll double up as your therapist
And for the boy with the dark brown eyes
Who looks across the bar at her.
And smiles.
It's all black and white again
Except this time,
It isn't her favourite Casablanca scene
But a white screen
And a thousand particles
Microcosmic
A milieu of
Unfathomable numbers float
Through the atmosphere
Connecting her to him.
And she doesn't want that.
She's always had a thing for the old,
But he makes her doubt that.

There were galaxies in your eyes and skeletal constellations connecting your blazing white bones the comets from your eyes continued to fall you couldn't see what I could because of the exploded nebulas that created too dense of breathtaking  stardust so you thought you were just a terrifying black hole you made yourself bleed stars you said to not get close because you ****** up light and happiness when really it was you creating it

sure glad everyone else found someone
i'm sitting in tornadoes of chaos and not making a sound
i’m full of all this undirected yearning which means i’m
full of ******* empty
and what a death-ridden paradox that is
everything seems like a riddle these days
but i’ve lost all energy for solving and its not like
anything could be worth solving when you are not here anyhow
open fields are caging me and i want a release
there are chains around my bare wrists and you need to take them off
where did you go anyway
i’m stumbling along clean swept paths
i’m tripping over nonexistent obstacles
i’m grabbing for a match because i’d rather burn myself
burn it all away so i won’t have to see all the things that aren’t there
namely you
and all the bleeding black that’s left
constant headaches like a companion and i’m begging to be blind
penny for the pained?
someone sit me down and explain the idiosyncratic theory
of why we make people into homes
and why we remember the nightmares but can’t grasp the dreams
where is the warmth to reside within
and why did you leave?

-*k.c.

stellar direction in undulating terrain
punctuated by meteoric columns of infinite light
imparting a clutching embrace to the face of now

lunar reflections form a fluid nocturnal path
to an osculated gateway of fertile encompassment
culminating in breathless pillows of untabled silence

stars without fault grace the expressive heavens
while muted words gaze out through rooftop eyes
cascading over living stone in waterfalls of emotional geodes