So here’s another story of he and she.

Half world was imaginary.

She lived in stories and tales,

Sung with characters, held their hands and laughed with them.
She’d sit in the garden uphill and read and smile and cry.

Until one day he passed by and their eyes smiled.
The stupid Cupid moved his wand, shot the arrow and went away looking for his next prey.

Now they would read together under the tree in the same garden.
He was a mystery who never spoke his mind
But fell in love with her little chaos inside.
“Let’s be fictional,” she said.
His eyes said yes.
Eyes could talk, who knew until now?


On page ten, they fell in love, irrevocably this time.
Page forty-one, they kissed.
Page eighty-seven, they danced in rain.
Page one-hundred and fifty, they shared the warmth on a winter night.
Page two-hundred and twelve, it became madness.

Who wanted this book to end?
But all books do end.
Every book has a last page, last sentence, last word, last letter.

And so came page three-hundred and fifteen

He had to go now.
Where?
We don’t know.
Why?
Nobody would ask.
For how long?
Forever, perhaps.

It was madness again.
A sickening melancholy madness.
She’d still sit there under the tree uphill,
Knowing he’d never come but still waiting for him to pass by.

She’d pick up her pen and write everyday; scribble anything.
The blue ink and the white sheets heard it all and she’d tell them everyday,
“It takes madness to fall in love and it takes madness to fall out of it.”

The world, the norms, these people

Mechanized, synchronized, too perfectly fit,

Living corpses all around

Who know nothing beyond black and white.



“What about me?” grey asks.

Why is white peaceful, black ugly and grey oblivion?

I exist.

I do.

I am.

I have.


In the room of your mind where where the door is white and walls are black

Look at the colour of the ground under your feet.

It’s all me, it’s all grey.

Sit there and consume me,

Think about me, sleep with me

And you will  be alive.



Grey is confusion

Grey is chaos

Grey is a beautiful mess,

I am grey and so is my mind.

I write about you in my head,

Without even knowing when and how.

I do not love you like the bee loves flowers,

I do not blush for you like a brook in the sunlight.

I love you like a nocturnal psychedelia.

I love you like darkness,

Consuming and hauntingly beautiful.


I know how I want you,

Meet me on a December night.

Undress me,

Shut my eyes,

Drink me raw,

Smell my hair,

Colour me in your murky lust.

Smoke me like a cigarette,

Burn my ***** with your smouldering lips.

Annihilate me,

Fail me,

Love me and then, leave me.


Sing Sinatra to me,

Ruin a song,

A song that I cannot listen to, again.

I want to wake up next to you,

Looking at your face, knowing you can’t be mine.

I’ll bring you coffee in bed,

Be gone before I come,

Escape from the back door.

Be the infidel Zeus,

Leave me naked in your linen, whiffing.

Annihilate me,

Fail me,

Love me and then, leave me.



**** me in the wintry mist,

I’ll scream in the starry night.

Leave me shivering with a gushing sadness

Curled up on the cold floor, naked

Forget me, disengage,

Love me and then, leave me, would you?