it was an evening with rain
     the sun was shrouded by clouds
monsoons were embracing the trees
     awaking the scents of the earth

on the hill at the edge of the city
     a rock turned into a nest
for unripe bodies to hide
    soaking, burning, bare

every colour suddenly faded
     in memory and summer mist
it only remained in the lips
     and a few droplets of blood

"No. Don't. Just stay inside."
As you say. I don't dare ask why.
"It is nice this way. And I can hear your heart."

"It sounds so loud."
(You treacherous heart)

But that wasn't the deal.
And how can I handle that?

...

What was the deal?
"This is just ***."
No kisses or romance or...

"Let's just forget."

...

I tried. Wished to. But I wonder you see...
"Just leave me alone. I won't talk about that."
...you censored the things that troubled you still.

"That is hilarious. And you are sad."

And your schadenfreude is not humane.
"I don't know what that is. I also don't care."
But I knew your humanity all too well.

"Stop talking about it. And thinking too."

I have still the right to ******* care about you!
"Look. Cut it now. All my friends know."
I feel betrayed and now the end appears close.

...

"Oh, well, you know. I may have possibly found you love-able. Once."

You mean ****-able, right? Can't mean anything else.
"Why are you talking like that? I don't like it. It is not you."
(So-over-you attitude) (Couldn't-care-less eyes) -I won't budge.

She's tearful, now, and then she smiles.

Just when I was giving in.
"This is such a funny thing!"
Almost impossible. Anger me, please!

I once couldn't stand one bit, you looking sad.

Faking is not me. You did deserve it.
"Well, night now. My boyfriend has come."
You'll have *** till dawn and boring chat. You told me so.

I walk to my room, and insanely alone,
I shatter my mind with one simple truth:
I loved you too much. You couldn't say you loved me back.

"It was just ***** back then. Didn't think that much."
And I was just a friendly mistake.
Mea culpa and it's gone.

If people could be
a tad more appreciative
of poetic expressions
targeting them
with
too many verses for their eyes
innumerous adjectives for hair
absurd geographical descriptions of body parts
and cheesy feelings too shameful to ****** express
and just
just get a bit more intimate
with all those miserable
lonely
sorrowful
poets...

that would be great.

You can be friends,
initially,
and laugh and play,
and share.
Secret thoughts,
shameful thoughts,
the past, the future,
feelings.

You can become best friends
and know the depths
and pains
and hopes
and lies you'd say
to others

And then, you could, possibly
become aware
of each others nakedness
and taste each other
and touch each other
listen to music in total darkness
while marking the skin
with teeth
and lips
and nails
and breathe on each other
tickle, massage, lie
(on each other)
(to each other)
and rub your noses
instead of kissing
and sleep together
while still doing all the previous things
and it can be a secret
or not

and then it can be over
and mean nothing at all

words could be banned
feelings be purged
and things can change dramatically
so much
that one can live in the past
while the other has moved on
so fast
and the intimacy can linger still
but not like before
unlike some feelings, that can,
unfortunately,
linger unchanged for...
so very long

And I'm an anarchist
and an atheist
but God, to own would be a bliss
dear God, freedom has a cost.
even in love

Dear (Once) Loved One...

I used to have questions
you would not answer...
I for long thought of answers
for which you would not enquire...

So, time has passed,
and wounds have healed,
yet questions still linger inside.

I forgave you. You raged on.
I tried more. More hurtful words.

An instance of hope did shimmer,
you gave me the weight of it all,
I apologised, for I too had wronged,
yet you left me unforgiven.

I wish I was the sole traitor.
Wish I could lighten your fault.

Still, here, these words for you,
all sorrow and pain and regret,
offered to the ghost of you,
all these after so very long...

Am I broken or not?
You joked you had brought down my wall.

This must be some illness,
how could such sorrow be felt?
Emptying and freezing what's left.
Thoughts of what could have been...

I guess all that remains is this question.
It is silly and dumb and too old.

It is all I ever wanted to know.
Burning and turning and spinning.
Hauntingly corroding all thought.
I guess I could forgive you once more.

If you ever were in love with me.
If you just could not utter these words.

a girl that cried
and a man who wept
in photos, in video, in sound.

it seems so strange,
from time to time,
to not feel anything at all.

hearing some laughter,
people terribly die,
and feel no response inside.

thoughts still come and go,
inexplicably though,
as if nothing is wrong, or broken.

is there something i've forgotten?

it is not true,
but lies and ash.

it never was,
it "never, ever, could be".

i did believe.
(and so did you)

what could we do,
but lie in lies together?

it was not true,
but had you faith,
i'm truly sure,
it could be.

and there i find the pain