something seems different
part of you has changed
i don't know what it is
but you don't react the same towards me
did i do something?
am i overreacting?

Why do I still try?

This love is like halaal
Everyday a bit of me dies
Whilst it keeps stabbing me
Bit by bit.

Now I feel like
A lone cloud
Drifting away into my paradise
Of filth and dark air.

I am standing on a cliff
And on either sides
I know I will be woebegone.

What do I do?

**How do I tell you I love you?

Where is the pianist in me
Where is the overly-enthusiastic musician
Who'd pick up any lyrics
And make it into a song.

Where did I lose my words
Where did I lose my will to write
Where did I lose my courage
To cry my heart out on a piece of paper
And bleed my fingers on a guitar-string.

Where did I lose my random scribbles
Where did I lose my unabashed thoughts
Which I would often lash out on empty canvases.

When did my creative block
Turn me into a mechanical machine
And make me forget that
My right brain works better than the left one.

Where did I lose my faith
In this ****** human race
Where did I lose my friends
My family
And all those who loved me?

Where did I lose my
Optimism
and when did I lose myself
To anxieties and the blues?

Is this real or a dream?

Where did I lose my courage to live?
Can someone find it for me?

What is it, that you could want from me,

my friend?

We walk along as shape-shifters;

Flickering, ephemeral forms.

Starting a labyrinth from opposite ends,

we hope to meet at the heart.

The strategy you follow and the actions I take

will never agree though.

I know you will keep left,

and I will circle endless maps,

waiting for you to find me.

Because that is what you do;

you find me.

I need your shelter, when I’m drowning in thorns,

spiny hedges, out of shape;

twisting and curling their brambles around me.


What is it, that you could want from me,

sweet lover?

Moth to flame;

shadows to the light;

a starving creature to the scent of fresh blood;

you gaze and crave and advance,

lost in heat.

I simply lean and wait to find you wanting.

Wanting the same crazed thing every other

man wants from me.

You are of the same mould;

burn the same;

hurt me the same;

excite me the same. But that is not an invitation.

I welcome the thrill;

but I also shiver at the chill you let in as you enter;

leaving the door open to a blizzard.


What is it, that you could want from me,

lovely admirer?

I struggle to cover up my holes and gaping wounds before

you eye me.

You like my insecurity;

you feed off my uncertainty.

You can sway me like no other.

Because you have seen those weak spots under

my skin and feathers.

And you show me you like them.

You warm the air around me,

everything shimmers and is soft to the touch.

I’m safe moving into your arms until

you show me truly what you are.

Scaly, coiled as a spring, rough,

grazing and cutting my skin.

You’re a snake that charmed me into

harm.

Stop admiring me, It’s worth so little

I could be better without it.


What is it, that you could yearn for in my presence,

my love?

Long, slow days wrapped in each other.

Excitement buries itself into expectation. Into routine.

I know you’re there when I call.

I know you sense my tears building,

before I do.

I know you already understand the words yet

to tumble from my mouth;

dirtying the floor and reeking of loss.

Why yearn, when you already have been given what

you need?

Why moan and cry at my feet, hurting, when you’ve already taken

what you need?

It’s only need. It’s not desire, or dreams.

It’s physical, real, and I’m the lost one thinking it was different.

Maybe, one day my love, I’ll be the one to yearn instead.

Loud enough that it will shudder and surge through your skin.

Enough that you can give back to me.


What is it, truly, that you want?