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I met a stranger in the bus..a man in the black suit..and I seemed to know him since ages..took the same route as mine..
Ours was a unique acquaintance, it was of smiles and stares, words hardly spared..

But today, today was different..he, with a diminished smile, seemed like he had a taxing day to cuss..in his eyes, he had the world locked like the pandora..
To open it was calamity, and to keep it all in was fatality.. but he was brave, went on burning his soul in the fire of the heist..
I always wanted to ask him about his pursuit, but I was scared of the explosion, he might endure his own Big Bang..

This stranger in the bus, the man in the black suit, who I seemed to know since ages now, was unordinarily restless today. And I couldn’t guess why..
Flicking his fingers, frantic, hasty and teary eyes, who was once my persona for strength, he left me drowning into the depths of my thoughts..
Oh how could I have even resisted, I was falling short of smiles..
Deciding to trade a word today, this harmless stranger extends a clumpsy mind, just like mine.. the troubles were little too wild, and I was compelled to listen..
They said talking helped, but we shared more smiles, words lesser spared..remember ?
The lump in his throat did most of the work.. While I got lost in his unshared troubles, i learnt something tonight..

Melting cold nights and rumbling leaves at the height. The swaying trees and the smooth slow breeze..These are the flaws of nature that are meant to make us feel right. But the evil, vicious ones, loneliness and anxiety, are our unborn progenies, and we nurture them with will and pride..they tell us of our existence, of the blood and flesh and the emotions running through our veins.. they make us pop and bleed, through our ears and eyes.. like the dictators back in time.. they eat through us, mummify us for the rest of our lives..
And this stranger in the bus, the man in the black suit..
I finally sense him.. He held my hand, asked me one simple question.
Why do we weep when we lose control ? Why are there storms and tempests inside our tiny hearts? Why do we feel wounded by the ******* loneliness that we create with our own flesh and blood, our own nurturing ? Why are we possessive about this poison that is freezing our blood, one cell at a time..? Yes, anxiety.. why do we let it turn us blue, **** us ?

I could only wonder, how smoothly he filled all the blanks. The blanks inside my gut. The blanks inside my head, the questions that he slapped in my face left red marks, but the ringing in my ears gave me the answer..

How easily could I let this venom out of my nose, with each exhale, I could sense the fumes of the blue escaping, leaving me with the spectrum of all colours but the one..

I see this stranger in the black suit everyday now. Everyday, In my bed, embracing me into sound sleep, in the mirror telling me that I was the prettiest of all, in my thoughts, in my walks, talks and mindful tirades.
The stranger now is a part of me, he camps inside me.. he replaced my poisons and demons..
And now we look out the window together, and smile more often.. the storms seem sorted now and ****** anxiety sits beside me, not inside me..
mel Nov 2017
(allow)ing sudden transition
is (the) Soul-freeing mission
blind the (eyes) of conditions
translate words in(to) vision
beyond looking we (listen)
allow the eyes to listen
Lydia Nov 2017
i Thought the fields were on fire until you Reminded me thAt it was just dawn
you took me to your graNdparents' farm so i could ride horseS again
it had been a very, very long time
but i remembered theIr bodies as much as my own
and you were good
The animals knew you like a god
all bent and hIdden in the light
we didn't get hOme till late
your parents were asleep, they left dinner iN the refridgerAtor
it was the only ilLumination in the entire house
i saw you in the faint, shadowy glow
Sequal to "You."

Please comment :)
Stefania S Oct 2017
the walls of her fortress
dripping with sage
knowledge
centuries old
empty of rage

her gut, a tortured field
often ablaze
truth lies there
while battles were waged

kitchen of flowers
table a maze
lovers look across
not knowing each's gaze

moments of crime
passion betrayed
within the lives of the "normals"
they laughed as they lay
bedridden with ***, long slow daze

south fly the geese, crows never go away
the sparrow calls morning
the owl flies today
blocks of comfort, boxed and weighed.
Shayla Ahrns Oct 2017
August burned slow
The sun clung to every branch, every petal
To every moment left in this old life
I couldn't hold on to each ray
Each moment, each day

None of the moments I stood in would stay
They lived in a leaving town
And all the little homes had locked up their doors

These moments were fleeting
And held grace in their hands
They tried to make her mine
But she had places to be that weren't me

The sun started setting
And the sky peeled back my pieces
Like the skin of something sweet  
Broken memories
Falling like ash around my feet

August had burned up
And so did everything after
Melle Oct 2017
The moment I broke
Quick and then slow
Merciless and then cruel
When I could not stand up for myself
And you did not either
When I realised I could not do it all alone
And people started leaving
When I needed a way out
Not knowing where the exit was
When I needed peace and silence
And you kept disturbing it
When I needed a parent
And you told me about your father
When I took some time to reflect
And you thought I could handle you
It was when you grabbed my arm
And I wanted you to let go
It was when you let me go
And then you let me go again
Quick and then slow
Merciless and then cruel
Any comments, suggestions, praises;) are welcome
I am at the edge of tears and edge of darkness and edge of greatness
So much heart, compassion, and love and possibility
Surrounding me and in me

Ready to let go of my old self concept
Standing at the edge of the cliff of the new me
THE EDGE IS HERE
The edge is in the space between
The edge is hope, creation, and possibility
It is the void

The unknown
The beauty that lies within us all
It takes courage to stay here
It’s easy to step off
K Sep 2017
He is standing in front of the bathroom mirror
Counting hairs on his chin
Two more than yesterday morning! He says giddy with excitement
That’s great dear.
I wrap my arms around his waist
Boxer briefs
And a bound chest

I remember the pretty blue dress
How I wanted to unzip it
Slide it off
And watch it hit the floor
It would have been so easy to touch him
Am I a bad person if I say I miss it?

New jaw line
New voice
New body
Can I still see you the same if you look like a stranger
I’m terrified
Terrified of waking up and not feeling the same I did yesterday

He never lets me see him naked
Without his armor
Ace bandages
Black boxers holding silicone between his legs
That isn’t quite the right color

There is no life there
No blood
No warmth
I like his face over me
Clawing at his back
I can look into his eyes
But I know he can’t feel anything
He won’t let me
He leaves his shirt on

We play this game of touch-me-not
He always wins  
Once a month
3 to 7 days
He calls himself an abomination
Not quite man not quite woman

He says we don’t fit together
Because I am an outlet but he is not a plug
He says we do not match up except we do to me
We match up in the way you smile when you catch me looking at you
We match up in the way you make me laugh
We match up in the way you linger even after you have left

This. Is. Hard.
I may not bind my chest
Or wear boxers
Or jab myself with needles every morning
But I am a girlfriend in transition too.
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