it's like a fog that creeps in very quietly.
a smoke that climbs up the walls like greedy vines
takes over the whole room beat by beat
it licks at my feet and in the next second it nips at my neck,
seizes up around my throat,
gets its way in:
it's hunger.
it's pure, raw, bare and violent hunger.
cravings that tear and scream at my fingers
true desire that claws its way up my thighs,
leaves harsh marks and bruises.

it's knocking at my brain, these thoughts
thoughts so red, like thick blood dripping through my lips,
thoughts of those eyes of yours,
that look you give
when you know it's me,
that i am the one for your fire
and you are my smoke.

it's something i want to taste more than the forbidden apple:
(i put that to shame,
i make the serpent jealous)
my hunger is so vicious,
it blocks my vision and numbs my conscience.
it is so true it is an explosion,
a burst of stars and little flames,
that ignores the entirety of time and space,
flows through it so fast it feels slow,
and i get lost in it, i turn drunk and hazy-eyed.
it is everything i need;

and if this smoke suffocates me, then so be it:
my lungs will say praise nonetheless,
they'll worship their own killer
without a hint of shame.

With the grease stained coverall
He came home from work
A little bit earlier he came over.
His three cute children
Welcomed him with warm kisses
they too stained theirs cheeks with oil and grease.
The red tiny bag they looked in for surprises.
As there are always some snacks waiting for them.
Savouring sip of hot tea from his beloved hand as usual
He sank on his armchair to take a nap.
Nothing went unusual except he looked extremely tired.

Hour later his wife tried to wake him up
He didn't responded to her any calls
She screamed in horror when she saw him lying breathless.
On hearing her screams children too surrounded him as well
They couldn't understand what was really going on
Very late they realized their dad is forever gone
They don't have any shoulders to hang on in their life
Since then no more surprises ever came in their life.

The red tiny bag hung on the wall
Once full of surprises
Future dreams of promises
Now breeze cradling it gently
Still the sobs of memories whispering silently!

© 2016 Geetha Jayakumar
All rights reserved!

Take a look at my body,
Look at my hands,
There's so much here
That I don't understand.

You made so many promises
Whispered like prayers
I don't need them.

I've been treated so wrong,
I've been treated so long,
As if I'm becoming untouchable.

Contempt loves the silence
It thrives in the dark.
With fine winding tendrils
That strangle the heart.

They say that promises
Sweeten the blow
But I don't need them.

I'm a slow dying flower,
A Frost killing hour,
The sweet distant taste of
untouchable.

I need
The darkness,
The sweetness,
The sadness,
The weakness.

I need
A lullaby,
A kiss goodnight,
Angel sweet,
Love of my life.

Do you remember the way
That you touched me before
All the trembling sweetness
I loved and adored?

Well, is it dark enough?
Can you see me?
Do you want me?
Can you reach me?
Or I'm leaving

You better shut your mouth,
Hold your breath,
Kiss me now before your death,
I'm going to miss you,
I wish you had known,
If you had maybe you wouldn't have gone.

He slept and I loved it,
He dreamt and I coveted not,
Having dreamt many dreams,
Spared of sleepless nights,
His sleep was my happiness,
His dreams my requite,

His hands in my hair,
Fingers long and strong,
The air in his lungs,
His chest so wide and proud,
Twice I said to him:
           Look up love it's the stars
Twice he said to me:
           No you are my star

Though I've dreamt and slept to my hearts content,
It's his dreaming, his sleeping,
That murders my weeping,
The gentle close of his eyes and his gracefully wandering mind,
That sends a torrent of peace through my chest.