“I love you,”

Was the last thing I wanted to say to you.

Before you walked away

And disappeared with the melting sunset.

When a part of me died with the broken bones

And the cracked ribs that produced an empty sound,

A nostalgic echo with the flawed beats of my heart.

So instead of letting you know,

How much I loved you –

I remained still and I choose to stay.

I stayed like the wrinkles of my bed

That unfolds themselves with your curves

And remains intact even in your absence.

I stayed like the roots of a winter tree

That never lifts up above the ground

And only choose to penetrate within

Until nothing remains to grow.

And I choose to stay,

Like a frozen chunk of ice

Or a heartless bronze statue;

Having a faraway look in my eyes –

Waiting for you to come back.

Waiting for you to turn.

Waiting to forgive you.

Because someone once told me,

That is what love is.

I look at you

And I see a faraway crafted look in your eyes

Searching for the infinity;

Looking for something that could only be seen,

But could never be felt.

Like a brief moment of solitude,

Or the cracking sound of hailstorms;

You think of me,

Like an unforgettable winter afternoon

Which creates a chill across your spine –

A chill which reaches to your soul

And makes it cold.

Colder.

You close those emerald eyes, and then

You think of me

And of the last time when we kissed,

And how I wrote from the touch of my lips

On your pearl white skin,

How much I love you.

How much I loved you.

But that touch seems like the memories

Of a different lifetime.

A life once lived, but now forgotten

With the thunderstorms of time.

You open your eyes and think of me.

One last time,

Before closing them again. Forever.

And would call me your lover.

A lost one.

Your immortal…

She gazed outside the window,
the sun falling on her eyes;
Her eyes full of dreams, full of reason,
but there was an emptiness,  an emptiness that couldn't be defined.
She gave a tiny laugh as she saw two young birds fly past.
The warm winter afternoon filled her heart
with a little happiness, a little sorrow, a little bit of...everything.
The sun made her feel beautiful, made her feel special.
Staring at it with closed eyes made her feel brave. Then why was it so incomplete?
Why did it all feel so, well....lost?

The crying sun
The moonless night.
The silent poetess
With words so bright.
The soft murmur
The gentle caress.
The careless whisper
Her silken dress.
She cries in dark
Her pain is veiled.
She puts in fear
A brave new face.
Those misty eyes
With tears like dew.
They speak to me
In words so few.
Her words flow
With unseen grace.
Her lips move
With mingled haste.
The silent poetess
Cries in vain.
For she finds none
To share her pain.

“The more you approach infinity, the deeper you penetrate terror.”
                                                                                 - Gustave Flaubert

He was like fire, a pyre of flames engulfing the darkness.
He burned brighter than the sun.
He cast shadows longer than an unending road.
He was a child of fear, and pain.
All his morbid desires took shape one day, and he felt alone.
Lost.
Gone.

She was like rain, a rush of calmness.
She had happiness in her eyes, and love in her heart.
She was a child of hope, and wisdom.
She met him, and all hell broke loose.
She quenched his thirst.
She broke him in the best of ways.
She completed him.

A silent whisper of freshness.
A breath.
Life.
They were infinite together.

Girl: "I wish tomorrow was Tuesday. Oh God."
Boy: "Erm. Tomorrow's Tuesday."
Girl: "Chup reh. I wish tomorrow was Saturday. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee".

There she was, standing in the rain.

I held my hand out.
She dug her hands deep inside her pocket.

We both looked at the grass-
There was a sharp line.

I took a step forward.
She took a step back.

I listened to the sound of thunder,
She heard the raindrops thud against the ground.

I tried to talk.
She just shook her head.

I clutched at her red overcoat.
She just shook it off, and ran.

I cried out in desperation.
She never turned back.


"I was always holding onto people, and they were always leaving. "