Close your eyes,
Visualise that in the lap
of angel you sleep.
When you exhale,
the stress and pain release,
Your mind body
and soul at peace.
The divine white light,
when you inhale,
your fibres and veins.
Every breath deeper than earlier,
becoming slowly heavier.
Infusing the divinity within
Love light and energy seeps in
Relaxing each part of your body
by healing deep,
And leave you relaxed rejuvenated
after the goodnight's sleep....
I never knew why standing on a balcony was so unnerving—
Why driving across a bridge,
Or around a mountain with only a short railing,
Made me question reality and life itself.
Tucking me in that night before you went home,
When we talked for an hour about Agency and Free Will,
Before you finally kissed me and left me to think in the dark:
My eyes were open wide as I learned that feeling's name.
"It's like how I could scream, right now?" I asked
And you nodded, "But something keeps you from doing it."
"I don't want to wake up Mom," I laughed.
He smiled and said, "And it would hurt my ears if you did."
Then a conversation later, after you blew a kiss
You turned out the light, and I lay in the dark.
I could jump out my window right now, I thought.
There's nothing physically stopping me.
for more than a year,
I have been stuck with the indecision to
and it's as if I torture myself with the thought
of what I would do
if you were to bump into me at the grocery store
hair grown out past your chin,
bloodshot eyes; you smell like beer and piss.
would I have the courage to confront you?
or would I take on the "little girl lost" persona
i oh so often do
and crouch behind the stand of sunflowers,
waiting until you have finished fishing through to find your favorite muffins from the display
and go on your way
i just can't fathom
after all these months of trying to change myself,
i can't change the fact that you are still plaguing my body
the bruises on my lips can still be felt.
your scent fills up the room that you refuse to walk into
and it must be some kind of fucking sickness
that no matter what you could have said to me and make me cry
it won't be enough to scare me away
Stockholm syndrome for the ones who keep themselves imprisoned in another's memory
you have made me sick and perverted
but I love you for it.
We walked through the woods,
when it was growing thick with shadows, the way smoke funnels
out a chimney. She wore a hoodie and yoga pants,
attire to match her mood: relaxed and comfortable.
Her eyes reminded me of what lies beneath puddles,
after a rainstorm had passed through
the small hometown, which disowned you.
We wrote songs while sitting on tree stumps,
chewing tobacco and drinking gin.
Because, we wanted people to write movies about us,
like the ones they played before the explosion
took out a half of Paris, DC, and Sydney.
Test me again, and I will never talk to you,
you said those words and you meant it.
I regret ever running
into you at the house,
and falling for you,
like how I'm falling
over on my ass.
And now we will never text,
have a conversation,
or hold each other in bed.
Kiss me goodnight,
but don't say
that you ever cared about me,
because I don't believe
in the lyrics,
your favorite musician sings.