When I get frustrated
and angry, I wear emotions in a language that gets written all over my face. I wear incandescence like the traffic police wear high-vis jackets like graffetti says “look at me” to passing trains and it feels like the very last nerve in my body has been exposed and people are queuing up to go for a ride on it. My expression reads - “stay away” “approach with caution”. But when I snarl, it’s not that I’m snarling, really. It’s just, I don’t want you to see me cry.
is how people get broken and love, how people get fixed.
When you really put your all into something,
a little part of your soul gets poured into the chase and that little part of your soul becomes something you will never get back - something ethereal, exchanged, in an unforgiving universe, for a chance at getting everything you ever wanted.
The simple truth in a slit
is if you cut up, not across, you want to die, not bleed.
I am not a flirt
but face to face with you, you make me aware of my every hidden fidget. My body flirts with you even when I tell it not to! and it won’t just won’t keep my irrepressible secret.
There will never be
true strength and grit in me until I fix what is broken, rebuild what isn’t enough, answer deep longing, reach for what is hidden and mourn what wasn’t mine to keep. Who knows what time it will take to build the foundations of me with tools I can’t see?
Roses are red,
violets are blue. The one to fix me, is you.