It is a force not to be reckoned with
The good, the bad
All wrapped up in a temperamental daze of wind, water, sunshine, and silver sparks breaking out of the sky.
~A storm is nature


What is a storm, you ask?

It is a catastrophic thing
Breaking down whatever is in its wake
It's fierce, full of horror and asks for no forgiveness for being so bold
~A storm is emotion


What is a storm, you ask?

It is a person, standing on the brink of themselves
Looking down at all they have been
Full of fury in heart
And soul pouring out of their eyes
It is beauty and mess to behold
There is a restless calm before it
And a devastation of hope after
~A storm is irony


What is a storm, you ask?

nature
emotion
irony
~You are the storm, my darling.

I am not afraid to love

 someone whose eyes sparkle
 someone whose passion pours out of their pores

I am not afraid to love

Someone in a moment of their monotonous and mundane weeks
Or someone who wants to be left entirely alone

I am not afraid to love

Someone who is wrong and fights to be right
Someone who is arrogant and hot tempered

I am not afraid to love

Someone with minor or major flaws
Someone with insecurities as vast as the ocean
I am not afraid at all.

But I am afraid

that after loving someone with all my might
And investing an entire new routine of fitting them into my thought pattern, my heart, my soul, and knowing that everything I see echoes them

They fizzle out
And particles remain
To remind me
of what I do not have anymore
And was I never enough to be stained onto their lives?

I am not afraid to love
Those who can love me back
And love me back
And love me back
And love me
back.

Flowers speak of magnitudes.
Puts delicate words into a soft, pure and velvety gesture.
Yes, there's no better way to extend ones' feelings; with the fragility of a flower.

But a dried one, ah, now there lies a beauty with a nostalgic aroma,
capturing the scent of the day it was plucked so lovingly and given.
The petals might be parched but the memories spill over the edge of my mind like a waterfall.

I will take your flowers, put them between the heavy books of my life and patiently wait for them to dry.

And when they are perfectly brittle and bare of their fullness - but not their substance ~I will gaze at them on starlit nights and allow them to blanket my mind
of you ❤

Let the words hum a sweet-sombre tune of phonetic bliss as their residue trickles down your heart

Let the words be straight forward, embellished and all sorts of stories
Let the irony of the world bring out all the twisted and jagged discomfort the truth within words has to offer
 
The words will stain your make up
The words will bruise your scars
The words will lighten up your flames
The words will hurl a storm within the hurricane of your life
 
Always remember to breathe in the words and exhale their essence
Flavour your days with their teachings
Always, always intoxicate the world with all the doing words the writings have to offer
 
For a letter is only an inked-stained piece of paper until you cry on it a little and transform it into Life.
 
Be your words.

Painted by a courageous, bright and perplexed society
We are all Russian dolls. 


We are layered to fit into our very many personalities  ever so carefully.
We are aggravated by time
Sullen by sorrow
and elated by love
We are colour
We are complex
As the layers are disheveled by all that is life
We are torn apart. In half. Each time.
Hoping to find a new, brighter, better you.

And each time we are cut by size.
So are we really growing?
And just like that, we are
Russian Dolls.

There is many of us in one
There is more under the next
And even more under the more.
One thing I know for sure
Is
The colour we exude shines through the very many layers
As long as you believe there is more beneath your beautiful

We are all Russian dolls
Because when we reach the end
The innermost portrait of all that is You
One realizes that it is an infant
The infant in you
That just wants what it wants
to be loved
By You

We are all Russian dolls
Be the colour that you exude
And embrace all the layers that is you

I may not be your priority
What's actually wrong with you?

I understand but I do not accept this catastrophic notion
Who hurt you?
Who have you hurt?

I spend my every energy conjuring up ways of making you realize how necessary I am,
but would you even know Me if you felt Me?
Do you remember the soft embrace cascade down your back making every hair stand in applause for your leap of bravery,

Breathe

And for ever admitting to such a bold and indispensable feeling of Me?
I am bewildered by how hastily you shake your head at the very thought of Me, removing Me from your peripherals
All because it is easier for you to be focused on the clinical ambitions of your life
Wait, have you ever even had me?

How would you know?
Have you ever been so understood that it is almost eerie that she knows that about you?
Do you feel at peace knowing she is in the same room as you even though no words are uttered?
Is it impossible to look into her eyes for more than 5 seconds without feeling like she is looking right into you?

Breathe

Do you enjoy watching her revel in the simple pleasantries of life?
does this make you happy?
does she?

Ah ha! you fool. There I am, right there, Hi.

You do not realize that I am the embodiment of life.
You feel me in your work you enjoy so much,
You see me in the hallowed faces that flutter in your personal space
You hear me in the wind as it caresses the leaves; reminding them that it is the things you cannot see, but feel, that actually, and really move you.

You absolute fool,
You are nothing without me.

But you will see me, in her face, when she smiles tenderly at the stars, when she smells the aroma of unpicked flowers, when you realize that she has embodied me,
and it will transcend within you

But you better hurry, for I have no time for oblivious blokes
Be brave little heart

I will teach you how to live.
Accept me, in all my uncertainty and newness
I am evergreen
Love, it's always love.
I am in the every crevice of your life,
I will commandeer you

Just, breathe

An echo in our minds from all the things unsaid.

You have a beautiful smile
Do you know that when our elbows touch it's our souls that connect?
Your eyelashes collect the dust particles from all the places we have been;
and when you close your eyes I see them like the constellations I gaze upon with every hope I have for this world
That shirt looks good on you
How did we come to this?
Let's talk about the unadulterated silence between people
The truest, most troubled and carnal thoughts of you reside in my heart, move up to my bosoms and resonate in my mind

The words get lost in translation
The journey from;
My heart through my mind to my lips - the words I never utter
I stumble over them like uneven ground
I stammer like a scratched CD

And what, in my mind sounds like the perfect unity of phonetic bliss
Turns into a massacre of words
An unpleasant sound with words trapped by insecurities
A battle between body language, confidence and the other person's eyes - their presence

We are silent lovers shaped by the moon and guided by the stars
And to You, my dear, I will always write unspeakable words

You are my poison and my poem
I inhale you and you damage me
I exhale you and you give me a high

I take joy in igniting you
With the promise that you will warm the cockles of my insides
As you simultaneously disappear
What a contradiction you are.

I hear you crackle
I watch you burn away

You see, you are a passive drug
You slowly **** me but quietly remind me that i am alive

I take in every single inch of you
Long and intoxicating
With a tip that burns of satisfaction

You are a fiersome thing to behold
I am all brave, stupid and hopeful to even fathom you as a constant without its own genre of pain

I will kiss you and remember that you are not good for me
But I will not rest without you inbetween my lips
And I will take in all of you
And leave only your filter for the world
Because I dont need your facades

I know what you are
You, my hopeless love, are my cigarette

And you set me on fire.

We hold onto the silhouettes of a past lover
The shape of their love
The remnants of the way it made us feel
The bits and pieces twirl like a hurricane in our minds
Memories give this natural disaster power to spin and hurl it's madness upon our early 3 a.m. wakes.

We are so captivated by our past
We are enthralled by their failures
They will hurt the same -
And even more once you realise how you went wrong.
And now that you can do better- be better- be more
       you fall deeper into the hole they left you in.

It is magnified
Every pixel of insecurity perfectly falls into place like the blocks of a Tetris game
And you are left a colourful whole
And a whole lot of mess
Will this ever fade away?

But even rocks tend to diminish when beat against by water
Gradually
But
Eventually

Perhaps
Just perhaps
There will come along someone
Whom
You share your thoughts with
Your smile with
Your hand with
Your heart with
And
Unknowingly
Your flaws and failures fit together and shine like a florescent light
And more light escapes the cracks, right?

Both understand what the aloft peer off into the distance means at 3.04 in the morning
Nothing can be said
Nothing will be said
Just to know they see your soul in that moment.

We thought we had closed ourselves up
Dried out and shriveled up
Nothing can we possibly give to another
But He will appear and in our rut we will give and give

And perhaps
Just perhaps
This is the love we have been unwillingly searching for
He will not be your saviour
This is no fairytale
He will simply be the negative to your equation
And together your negatives will born a positive

He will not be the first I have loved
And I will not be the only one he has shared his smiles with
We both know what pain is
Like a blunt saw relentlessly hacking away at our will.

But;
like the spark of an epiphany
~We~ will be announced in the depths of a cold night with fluffy socks and warm hearts

We will wrap one another in the bandages of our love
He will plaster me with hope
And I will kiss him like the relief of forgiveness

I will press each memory like a flower - to dry and preserve

And;
I will write a dictionary of all the words with the hope of explaining what it feels like to have finally found Him

And I will hold Him with everlasting gratitude in the belief that Serendipity is not a waste of a word

I will twirl my love around His scars,
not being afraid of the monstrous stories they behold

And;
In this love there will be times where we will build forts around our feelings.
But let these be blanket forts
And let us take a joyous leap of destruction in stomping on them like child's play.

And;
I will love Him through the days he has collapsed in defeat from this disastrous place.

And;
I will love Him through the days he blisters the skies like the milky way.

When He is a hurricane,
When He is a still, starry night,

~I will love Him.

Everything is exactly what it is until it is what it is not and then it is even more or even less than what it was  

A dandelion is the only flower that represents the 3 celestial bodies: sun, moon and stars. It's a magical chance. It's a wish. It's a float of hope as the seeds soar and forsake our sorrow.

Stars possess the infinite power to constantly bring tranquility to ones' soul.

The sky's a blanket for the lovers of the day and night to gaze upon.
To say the most delicate words to and kiss every so unforgivingly.
It is a place where you have a twinkling audience to bleed out the ocean within you
And a unpolluted moon that softly kisses your forehead as your head hangs in melancholy.

Everything is exactly what it is until it is what it is not and then it is even more or even less than what it was

And what it is, is the muchness that reflects from within

And the humans. Oh the humans. How much more they are than just scientific stuff.

You are made up of stars, dandelions, every colour of paint and even gem stones

But all the world is a reflection of your insides, so make sure you feed your soul with that real good stuff. 
That magical stuff.
That mighty stuff.

Clean your eyes, Love
You can't see with all those facts

You are an exquisite Art piece
Full of blinding beauty that shines from beyond what meets the eyes
Your mind bellows with all things to be fancied
And your heart
Oh your heart
I wish to find a heart like yours
You love like you've never been lonely
And you laugh like your eyes have never been pierced by the calamities of this world

You are spellbinding my love
You possess a world of sentiment and tenderness
And you nurture life with the whirl of a hurricane in your eyes

But where is the time?
I am busy with the things of the world
My heart is just here
- in between my rib cage
Imprisoned by my mind
You embody the ideals of what my mind, body and soul have unknowingly searched for,

But my eyes are closed
My mind is occupied
I have no energy for your personality

- the end -

I love people watching
Seeing the way they have put themselves together
Watching the dust sweep from underneath their soles as they glide through this moment

I am dumbfounded by the myriad of people and their intricate designs,
In the most non-creepiest way, of course

The scars they show as medals
The wrinkles they try to hide but pop out in a burst of laughter
The different happy feet movements
The little walking hums
The hand swing gestures between couples
The ones that trod around avoiding interaction
The ones that smile ever so fervently trying to connect with complete strangers
The ones that catch me

Oh dear, hi! Awkward smiles, now look away, quick!
People, such restless things, aren't we?

There is something so sacred in the way a person walks when they are happy
And something so enticing about those who walk in uncertainty

What are they thinking? Are they even present? Do they realize that this moment is their actual life? That it is the only truth they will ever know
second.by.second

So they should do that thing
Tell him you love him
Hold his hand even though you are mad at him
Hold onto your mother no matter how old you are
Eat the food!
To not care but not be careless
It's hard, no?

Our egos mixed with fear
Such ****** things
Such menacing and parasitic things

These ideals of what should be, of what should matter - They all fly away with the cold and bitter air that we exhale

Perhaps, Bob Dylan was right when he sang, the answer my friend is blowing in the wind"

And I hope it whirls at our lives like the enormous jolt of bravery you get in your heart when you accomplish something that frightens you.

And then, dear people, I hope we do all the things!

He was a guy who did not know how to do this
Which was ironic because he knew how to do everything
He had time to fiddle with the intricacies of life
To oil every fragment so it turns just right
To tighten all the screws so nothing falls apart.

He even had time to look into the abyss and think about purpose.
And on some nights, he even had the time to say the right words.

But on a larger scale.
He did not know how to have time for her.
She was always there
Instant spark
Continuous light
Ready eyes
Open heart
But ever so often, he would disappear
And what a lifetime those days were.

You see, they weren't friends
But they weren't more than friends either.
They knew each other's hearts
They felt breezes pass through them the same way

There was this butterfly with azure wings, with splatters like the constellations of a thousand galaxies. It made it's way through her and fluttered into his soul.

But there was a distance
A literal, figurative and very bold distance.
Butterflies are delicate
Distances aren't

You could have laces, buckles, zips and tassels
You could be green, blue, black or grey
You could have 1 pair, 2 pairs or 3 pairs too many
But there will always be that one pair
With soles battered but sturdy

Because soles get pierced
Buckles will bend
Laces will fray
And pretty tassels will fall off
But you have proven
In your splendiferous simplicity
That taking care of you
Means taking care of me

You carry my weight without having shoulders
You absorb my tears when my head hangs in sorrow
You cushion me
And I move you
We are a force worthy of note
You fit me like a glove
And I slip into you like Cinderella's enchanted glass slipper

Your sole may be broken
Your tag may be frayed
But you know my paths
and understand the way l dance

And no matter the direction
we will conquer the ground
The grease, the dirt, the rubble of a city, the things that poke and the people that step a bit too ***** nilly

You are my ambition to move forward
Or to run away
You are my chosen ligament
You are the comfort of my toes
Your fabric will rub against my skin as if they were naturally graced upon
 
I have chosen you
You are mine
I will tape you, glue you, wash you and mend you
I will remember to be gentle and precise
I will remove any dirt that stains your sole
And Let's leap into this world Together

Just my soul and yours

In an ever changing world
Who am I?
Am I the blue and red hues of my most favored colours,
Am I the moon I praise,
Am I the friends that nurture me,
Or the job that decorates me?

See, the question of who am I has been stuck to my forehead ever since I yelped into existence
So is it true to say that all of life's embellishments are what make me so?

They are therefore I am?

What if I was blind?
And jobless
With no friends...
Then who would I be?

We are not toasters, with a limited function. That's why who we are is so perplexing.
It is known, I am human, female, Indian, but all the technicalities in the world still do not explicitly explain what makes my soul the way it is.

Who am I?
"Brave and therefore scared"

To find the difference between what we are and who we are is a life long task
There is never a moment where you can undoubtedly say,
"This is me and this will always be me"

We are unpredictable with depths not even ourselves can comprehend until it happens

I am not so much what I do or have; but I am who I am because I do those things, because of the choices and actions behind those decisions to be and do.

I am in a constant state of
"this is me right now"

And one day sitting on a rocking chair
I will collect all the moments and say,
"so this has been me"

And that's when you know, who you are.
This is my belief.

We talk about being pieces. Of hims and hers. Of moments. Of pain and happiness.

To say we are made of pieces, no.
I am made up of wholes.

Hims and hers. Of moments. Of pain and happiness.

The magnitude of those entities are so much.
They are wholes. What an injustice to the accumulation of our beings to label them as merely, pieces.
We are all made up of wholes.

Hims and hers. Of moments. Of pain and happiness.

I am whole without them, but with them. I am much more.
And my life is about being more.

Tonight is for the hopeless romantics;
Lifting souls and quivering helplessly in the arms of your dance partner.

Where the smoke of ***** Dancing cascades over your smitten presence

That dance.

Is all a romantic ever dreams of
Thrusting, holding, heavy breathing and dancing in unity.

The look that screams “My Love, you are irredeemably the most fearsome thing to behold”

That is what we deserve.

Not every lover knows that their bodies can move to a rhythm as boisterous as their heartbeat on a moonlit night in front of an audience.

True.

But when I see you,
Oh my darling
When I see you
My insides need to feel the jolt of passion - the way that dance looks.

Now that’s for the lovers;
That’s what we deserve.

Pretty dresses, shiny shoes, glittery nights and suits.
They are all in your heart.
Beautiful souls;
Being beautifully in love.

Iridescent on the inside.
One dance changes a heartbeat
And then it becomes evergreen

//find your dance partner//

People
Full of past, denial, love, lust, ambition and always sailing.
Irony. They are irony. And most nights it’s never poetic.
Their placid exterior, a sort of mystery. We all want to believe that there is a deepness beneath. But with a society full of sameness how can goals not be the mediocre achievements of things?

We all learn sooner or later that only a few things are needed to be irrevocably happy.

Life is such a funny thing. Humans are even stranger. Why is it that we need to expose ourselves to absolutely all of life’s shallowness to learn that we can actually swim really well in the deep and find happiness in the pruning of our skin. Softening us, allowing us to do the very thing we were meant to do. Love.

Ugh love, that shoddy thing. That word has been so stained. No one wants to hear it anymore. Poor souls.

Let the tiresome and noisy ships sail. A sailing ship will never succumb to the still water’s depth because it is in a constant state of motion. The people on those ships will merely peer off the railings, too afraid of not the depth, but perhaps the mermaids, and maybe there is magic in the depth. But they’ll never know.