Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Your belongings (be)long to/for the materialist of Earth.
Your memories belong in the cradle of the hands of time.
Your talents belong in the rucksack of circumstance.
Your friends and family are shadows on the pavement
of the path you travelled.
Your lover belongs in the warmth of your heart.
Your bones belong with the typhoon of dust.
Your soul belongs in God's horcrux.
Your moments.
That's all that's ever yours.
Moments.
It is only after you lay to sleep every night
that the sun sets, in my horizon of being;
I wander, aimlessly, lost, chasing ghosts
and humming sleepless lullabies to the stars
while I, wait for the beautiful sunrise.
Your fingers dapple the contours of my face,
like layers of a warm blanket
you peel back and
rest beneath my skin.
This sheer vulnerability.
I'm prejudiced to feel unguarded
and I'm afraid.
Not of you, but of love.
Of the things it would do to me.
Of the scars it will leave behind.
God, I'm trembling again...

Your kisses calm the waves
crashing against my skull.
I'm terrified
of love
and the autopsy it would do on me
once I'm lifeless after you've left me.

Still breathing but not alive.
I don't want to be a casualty of love again.
My stitched together brokenness will
surely break this time again under it's heavy toll.

But I'll do it again, for you and for me.
Because I love you. And Us.
I'll set aside the love for me, to love you more.

More than everything,
Because I love *love.
Darkness is a riddle
muddled by light;
chanted at night
by your twinkly eyes.
I just want you to unconditionally care,
To treat me as your profound priority and not as one of your undying options,
I don’t believe in hollow words and promises,
I believe in simple grand gestures.

I’m so used to being disappointed that I can’t help but believe
my slivered hopes are bound to never happen,
and I know them to be majestically futile.
What do you see* ?
When you shut your weary/gleamy eyes,
Do you see what I see ?
Do you see me ?
Do you see the person you used to be ?
Do you see the ghosts of all the people
who were a part of your insignificant life ?

What do you see ?
The light at the other end or
**Oblivion.
The eclipse lit corridors
of our grandoir stage.
Basking in your shadow
Calms the tempest
that brews within
the caffeine infused blood of mine.
Each word that spills from
the tip of your tongue
is like the first kiss
the Earth has with the Rain.
All of this reechoing sound
is meant to be dismantled
like a severed limb
from a Ken doll
and grains into lead bullets
that slightly brushes past
the curvatures of my exit wounds.
Because,
you do not love me.
If only tears could
wash away
our sadness
and love could
fill the emptiness
in our broken hearts.
What is love,
but a permission to
make a home of a heart ?
He/she puts together temporarily,
the broken/disntegrated parts of my plasticine self
with band aids and masking tape.
a gratuitous note to all the people who take the time and care enough to mend the broken hearted/the ones who desperately need some beacon of hope.
home is where I hear your footsteps rattling the foot boards,
resonating at the same frequency of my heart's undulating palpitations.
home is where I feel your haunting presence persistently
passing through these crumbled walls of mine.
home is where I see you in the mirror every time I look for me.
home is where you twist, turn and shake up the whole **** house.

home is wherever you are, no matter how far.
i) Countless casualties
lost and faded
among
the shipwrecks
of
broken hearts
caused by
indented rocks of love.


ii) The docks seamless
with the horizon
swarmed with infinite
paper sails and boats
resting in the warmth
of the tranquil sunset,
the sunset. The Sunset.
An undertone of *
love.
The temple that we laid down
in our past is in ruins,
the goddess has evanesced,
I lay flowers at the feet
of our devotion,
I still pray, with silent hope
that you’ll come back
So we can rebuild
this religion,
that was
You and I.
The only way to get through everyday
without incinerating your soul
is by sending multitude of messenger pigeons
to drop millenial post cards
at fluctuating frequencies at the juncture
of the mail box of your heart;
as a wick to a flaming reminder.

Soul reads the post card sonourous,
sitting on a wooden stool with a gashed crack
running through the middle
beside the dimlit green forlorn bedside lamp.
Heart ardently listens while laying silently
beneath bereft layers of warmth.

It read  *"You can't be the only moon that revolves around the Sun/You can't be important to someone all the time."
I’m a psuedonym to towering inferno,
Meshes and cardboard henchmen surround me,
the only person I would let in through the gaping hole in my chest is you.
I’ll keep you warm.
I’m sorry for all the times
my flames go wayward and
tremble/burn your soul.

I’ll keep you warm.
Within the depths of my heart.
Our hands shaped like cages.
Cages shaped in the deformities of our hands.

Stoic fingers as rusty girdles,
Grainy textures as the bare calluses of our hands.

Trap.
Grasshoppers.
Trap.
The Sun.
Trap.
Our lovers hearts.
Within it’s moral confines.

Casually unlearn the truth that
confinement leaves it absent of light,
rid of it’s senescent glow,
dead to grow.

Our hands shaped like cages.
Cages shaped in the deformities of our hands.
Molten phoenix,
Paragliding paralysis,
Ruminating catchphrases.
Anvil *******
Discordant dream concert
Spacebound ocean blue.
I am the nightsky, you are the stars that fill my soul.
I am here to stay, my old and new friends who are going to be.
Salinity is the oar of my lungs,
as I crawl with busted knees and
drag my legs across the bottom of the sea
onto an island of your heart of night.
My pale feet embalmed in your grainy shore
colouring it  maroon.
Your violet light shining through my darkness.

You are my rebirth even after I've died a million times.
She said that one day the ghost of her
will smoulder a bridge with all the buds
of the cigarettes she smoked,
from her phantom heart to his;
until then she belonged ardently to (her) life.
I am a prisoner of love,
lock me away in
the chamber of your heart.
Turns out,
of all the things
I’m addicted to,
you’re what
I’m addicted to the most.
I regret letting you play with my heart
for you were only a child.
With vials of venom racked in deep,
your fangs glisten at the reproach of anything threatening.
I was witness to all the prey you made fall in defeat,
doused in cajole of mockery and lamenting in your spite.
You took pride in your nature of revenge and
I clapped along like a mechanical monkey and
laughed at the joke you made of them.
I loved you.

I regret playing with you, let alone letting you play at all.
You run amok on people’s vulnerabilities like they’re tiny green foot soldiers on the ground, but I see the rawness of their wounds, you tore open what was closed.
You toyed around with their **** lives.
I was disillusioned by love,
this heart of mine fooled me into believing your selfish lies.

As my heart lies a victim to your poison,
like a fish out of water prancing on the wood board gasping for breath, on the edge, between a death he once knew and the life slowly rebuild,
I retreat into the abyss away from the torment of you.
It’s still hard letting you go, knowing that I love you.
But letting you knowingly abuse me is like self harm.

I love you, but I love myself more.
(making eye contact with)the sun kissed trees rustling
in the swaying wind
where rabbit holes spiral into oblivion
and high noon tea parties constantly commence
polka dot mushrooms grow in abundance
is not of much relevance
carries the echoes from your restrained heart
through the side walls of caverns of bat caves
and around the eclipse of the moon
turning into darken dust
inhaling the effervescence of you into my being,
which makes me you.
and you and i are us.
Tonight,
for a change,
let’s indulge in
deep conversations
with our tongues
and
make love with our minds.
My heart is a rebellion
of splayed foot soldier
cocked in red and white
marching like fire ants,
with drums wisped around necks
mimicking the heart’s murmur,
like a slogan of supremacy.

My heart is a rebellion
against my mind;
too often forgetting
I house them both.
Time is relative to gravity.

But your love is what binds me
to the earth.
I have been bitten by
the ruthless rabid dog
of unrequited love.
It bore it’s teeth into my flesh.
It left my heart bleeding,
with a scar to remember by.
Blankets the fog in sheaths.
Shed the warmth,
Rustling trees.
Cohabiting within mosquito nets.
Tripped on capsules of the Rainbows,
Captured from the wilderness in the back yard of heaven.
Downward spiral slide into Wonderland.
Record players.
The abyss of the ocean at the bottom of the sink.
You’re the tightrope as I walk across the valley of death.
Hold me.
She painted the void
within the chambers of my heart
with broken crayons.
She painted them
with the shades of effervescence.
She is white chocolate
in the abstraction of snow melting in my mouth.
Her eyes can swallow black holes
and I drowned in their infinitude.
She saved me, She was my lifeboat.
When i wear her smiley badge,
her words resonate inside my skull.
Every waking second of every minute
of every hour of the days seemed
like an everlasting lifetime with her:
Infinity.

She tasted like the sweetest cotton candy
dipped in the elixir of the most exquisite bitter fruit.
She was the unrelenting/interminable flame
zealously smoldering in the night sky.
She rekindled my dying ember
of lingering hope, in the existence of people like her.
Serendipity.
Phosphorescent banners placed at sea,
Maybe it is for you to see,
Dredging efforts for your sentimentality.
Our imprints washed by sea,
You’re no longer my reason to breathe,
We were nothing/ but extraordinary.
I said “Shhh….”.

To silence the multitude with familiar faces,
to keep you unscathed/unblemished
from the hollow words
of people who haven’t seen
a glimpse of your everglowing soul.

For you to be you to me.

Pristine.
my eyes.
The moon inexorably needs the sun;
just like i perilously need you.
the remarkable, the not so magnificent,
the parts not everyone can see,
illiberally all of you.

Solis dies every night ,
just to let Luna live.

But my dear,
Our love is not like the ones written
in the depths of the fathomless universe.
The harrowing, unblemished and blackened truth
that silences and ***** the moonlight
out of my insignificant galaxy...
you don't love me the same.
I know I'm not extraordinary enough
to belong in the same canvas blue/black skies as you,
and be your moon.
It is not the end. For neither you or me.

I will move on to new cosmic horizons,
in search of a new sun.
A sun that will reflect the darkest parts of the moon,
and love it all the same.
And you, Solis
will find your momentous and exquisitely portentous  Luna.

But my friend,
You are ever my collosally beautiful and singular Sun.

You're irreplacable.
This is my most personal work. It's about my best friend.
Welcome back old voiceless/sheepish friend.
I never thought I would have to summon you again.
But the time has come to make a new scar to remember this moment by, which should serve as a perrenial reminder
to my future self that the past is always real and this time around,
to learn from it.
Somedays you are the butcher.
Somedays you are the lamb.
Somedays you are the yearning.
Somedays you are the ******.
Somedays you are the poison.
Somedays you are the wine.
Somedays I am the hurt
of knowing, you will never be mine.
Even though I’m used to
the self support and the solitariness and just being there
for my fond ones,
Every once in awhile I just wish there was
someone
who would hold tight my hand during the
frequently screaming tempest.
When I’ve reached my
breaking point/conjuncture
and convulse into tears.
Someone who would
encompass me momentarily,
whisper sweet serenades saying,
“Everything is going to be alright, I’ll sing you a lullaby.”
She was an unfamiliar visitor to the heart of sadness.
But he knew it’s co-ordinates by heart.
It was dark and sweltering with emptiness,
an infinite void of melancholy.

He knew how lonely it was over there
and how addicting it can be.
He did everything in his power to
lead her away from it’s ominous grasp.
To keep her in the starlight of another dawn of hope,
give her another day to save herself.
Be there to save her.
Because she was there to save him,
eventhough it was too late.
She & he & she spoke mellifluously.
Over prolonged seconds of wasted moments,
he planted a daisy in his youthful garden
as each day progressed which marked
a patient reminder of his love for her.
On one dollorous scarified day,
she screamed whispers and banter
and everything gory at the pinnacle of her lungs,
which admonished and ripped every daisy
by the root from his secret garden of adoration.
Of her.
All that was left was nothingness.

She & he & she spoke mellifluously.
She proclaimed her love for him over strained vocal chords.
And the one neglected daisy that was left in the wreckage and toil remained alive.
That's what his love was.
A singular heartbeat that still beat for her,
A ventricle of his heart where
he kept the locket which tell the stories
of their memories together & her.
Alive.
All the girls I’ve loved
have been blades
that made me bleed poetry.
And darling, you were the sharpest.
My mind says no;
wanes to let go,
but then again,
when have I ever listened to it.
My heart says yes;
unbeknownst to myself.
Washed ashore, brawny yet bruised.
A casualty of love;
Of our own misunderstandings,
purloined around our lover's lungs,
in forlorn hope to find ourselves
in comet tails
and wisps of smoke.
We will pick ourselves up
and break in waves,
again.
You are that warm and cozy feeling
that rests beneath my lips.
You are the winter time chills
You are a metaphor for beautiful.
In every sense of the word.
You are not my sunshine.
You are my whole sun
In all it’s ****** glory.
You are fluorescent confetti
raining all over my melancholia
existing at the corner of my moonlit bedroom.

You are serendipitous phosphorescence.

You are petrichor.

You are my,
*Universe.
I have figured out why
I always want or need somebody,
or be in a relationship
with someone,
and it’s not because
I’m lonely or desperate,
it’s because I’m too fragile
to take on this harsh world alone
and I need someone
to be strong for,
to be strong for me.
If you love me,
Won't you let me know ?
If you don't,
Won't you let me go ?
You're the only one
who can make me
the happiest
and
the saddest.
Next page