She saved me from my biggest fear, losing her.
She made me into the man i truly thought i would never be, a beggar of pardon.

I feared she would never see how broken i was, I’d still like to hide that.
But perhaps i put her on a pedestal too high, For she climbed way up, only to tie me a noose.

Ticktock sings the clock and
a rhythm follows through,
Slippery slop my sad tear drop,
awaits the morning blues.

Ticktock the seconds pass,
but time for once stays still,
a moments worth wrapped in a lifetime,
a chase to chase without thrill.

Ticktock I wait for you and,
subtly ***** my self,
for a life without you sounds sad but true,
cant extend a hand for help.

Ticktock a final goodbye,
good wishes and good wills we share,
tears of sorrow, no hope for tomorrow,
one last time i bow down for a prayer.

Silent as the sky above,
never did she know that she was loved.
Brooding all day and night,
night times mostly spent in fright.

Humming a song of her people though,
a weeping widow would calm her down,
'Mom, I'm fine!' she would always scold,
100 Acre woods had only 2 sounds.

A charming price with a silver sword,
a debonair man with a lions mane.
Any moment now would knock down her door,
and sweep her off her feet away.

10 hours turned weeks and weeks turned months,
the imbecile never showed,
poor little girl keep humming her tune,
and cleansed all of her abode.

The mother grew worried now for the facts she truly knew,
Prince charming was, but a myth she weaved, for her princess to sleep,
No life is lived with a broken heart, she convinced herself to confess,
told a final tale and said, she knew she'd made a mess.

Unable to believe a betrayal from
a women she called her Ma,
packed her bags, picked up her things,
and took off really far.

Two days later the doorbell rang,
a handsome lad pushed through,
'tell me where my love hides, maam'
Was he really true?

She recited the tale of lies she wrote and
failed to mention one thing,
for she ever had a daughter who ran,
Ma silently slipped on his ring.

Spent all day thinking of ways to curate myself out to the world.
Pretending to whisper when I wanted to scream.
Pretending to love when i wanted to run.
The fire diminished, but so did the fine line between madness and insanity.
That line was her. Not broken, just bent.
She was all of it, my redemption, my muse, my freedom. But what do you do when freedom starts feeling like a noose around your neck, tightening by the minute. You smile as you choke. You cry, but only tears of joy.
She was a fresh page, on a clean notebook. And all i wanted was to blot my scrappy ink on her fine lines.
Guilt drowned in fear. Fear of losing her. Guilt of the freedom i craved.
She killed me with everything she had. Constantly and consistently. She killed me but brought me back to life, just a little bit each time with a kiss.
Each time, just enough for me to watch her do it all over again.

Sometimes i pull my blanket a little closer to my chin, it soaks up the chilly air that seeps through those open pockets.
Sometimes i read just a little longer, i know it annoys her but she understands or somehow lets it go.
Sometimes i wake her up when I can't sleep, her sleepy voice calms me down, reassures my demons to stand down.
Sometimes i wish she were home, for i have come up with a silly joke, but there is no one on the other end of this voice.
The times she's here i wish she were away, for i need my space but i need to miss her more. I know you left just yesterday, but for some reason today, your blanket is still the mess you left it, my towel you stole still smells of your shampoo and my wardrobe is still a mess from you surfing through it.
I'm always surrounded by a mess.
But sometimes i wish, it would be yours on the bed instead of mine in my head.

In the end all I want is to know you the way you know you.
Its the truth. Its the real you.
In the end all I want is for you to see yourself the way I see you.
Its incomparable. Its full of compassion.
In the end all I want is for you to be there, where I see you.
Its everywhere. Its all the time.
In the end all I want is to be loved the way I do. Its irrevocable.
Its unconditional.
In the end I want what i want, for all I want is nothing more than a speckle of wish in a forest of dreams.
For until I have these, my beginnings never cease to exist.
For until I am you, and you are me, its not the end.

Our biggest problem till date has been trust. This trust i speak of need not pertain to interpersonal relationships, but in time.
We need time. I need time. And space. And energy and resources to function like a well oiled machine.
Sure i crack and crumble. Sure i crush like wafer thin ice on a frozen river. Sure it doesnt take much to push me down, for my buoyancy is only as strong as my will power and that is saying A LOT.
But like wax in a new mould, i build myself up again. Like a retrofitted structure, i extrude steel stanchions and girders within me. The frail brick facade does not fail me, only makes it lighter.
But none without patience. And no patience without the trust in myself, that i can get through this.
We fail to trust the system. The system that puts a government in our hands, which in turn chooses to sit on our backs with the engine on full throttle. We fail to notice our power, a democracy is nothing if not as easily disbanded as bound together.
We fail to trust our instincts. They help reboot the system when error 404 shows you the exit door. Trust them, for they come from within. The aura and the energy never lies.
Spread this energy for it emancipates negative from within.
Finally, we fail to trust our body. Which direction but down, would the body go, if the mind is all you listen to all day long? Trust your body to repair the damges you do at the minds behest. Trust your body to signal you when you go wrong. And listen when the signal blinks. Because frankly, you miss the signal and there is no looking back.
We need one another, sure. But what we do need the most is ourselves. Its easy to run away and forget things ever existed. What’s difficult is to stay put.
So trust me when i say this, the only way out, is through.

Before I save you, I have to save myself.
A journey with a drink, travelling for a morbid farewell.
Before I rescue a stranger, I have to save myself.

My sister was wrong, I am not the most confident and beautiful person she has known.
Before i blame someone else, I have to blame myself.

My love never left me, she knew my worth more than I ever did. She gave me her oxygen, when i blew out mine, in balloons of unnecessary nostalgia.
Before i forget her curses, I have to forget my sins.

Of all the friends who left, some held on tighter. "I told you so" was never an option, they danced my worries away. My sisters now. Family always.
Before I cry for those I lost, I must praise the ones who stayed.

I remember less and less about happy memories, but only things I regret. Things that left dusted into the wind.
Before I raise hell, I need to raise myself.

Singers, songwriters, lyricists, all of them gave me words i needed to sew this piece together. A new reign must now arise.
Before I praise myself, I must eulogize those before me.

Looking back 10 years , I see regret as much as i see satisfaction as much as i see the work of an over-bearing brute.
So before I take someone's life, I must first lay down my own.

Of all the strange things i could be, i chose to be normal
Normal is merely a word, together some came and produced,
Normal is nothing but a state of mind, when there is nothing left to reproduce.

Of all the diverse things i could be, i chose to be sane.
Sane is that phase of life, i believe we when numbness takes over,
Rationalising a decision, proving a point,
Its always to sound a bit clever.

Of all those brilliant things i could be, i chose to be a liar.
Liars are cowards and they ***** your mind,
For truth is the spear of a brave soul,
There is always a peculiarly kind.

Of all silent feelings i thought i could feel, i chose to feel upset.
Sadness is the trail of a suppressed opinion,
Its an irrational feeling, driving your madness into oblivion.

But of all the things i thought i could say, i chose to say zilch.
Silence is deadly when used as a shield.
Silence is terrible when projected as a glitch in time.
If there ever was a time to say anything, it was then,
Silence of all things, was my only crime.