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Leks Dec 2013
I crave doses of my past lifestyle/life
even though I'm content with the lessons I learnt from it; the cravings still linger.

The way we smoked cigarettes till the brim of the fliter on the roof
and spoke as much ******* as the number of cigarettes in the box allowed us to.

Star gazing as though the night would never end,
Creating dumb scenerios of how the world would end.
Or we'd simply listen to the silence of the night as though it had a deep cryptic secret for us hidden in each sound of nature.

It was as if life beyond my childhood days had not existed till that time with
You.
My heart lusts for a hollow feeling like that again but in a humble way as though it knows that such love only exists in a dream
Kinda like a dream you'd wake up from and instantly forget because your mind/heart cannot fathom such for the consious mind.

I remember that Summer like it was yesterday
I had bad religion by frank ocean on repeat subconsiously for weeks and when I realized that,
I knew I had to get my **** together for my own sanity.

Then orange Autumn arrived...
And there's something about the transition from
SUMMER to AUTUMN
that makes everything seem better than before.

As I watched the leaves fall from their roots a piece of my torn heart healed each time & the hue of the sun marinated its therapeutic rays on my frozen soul

One thing I learnt from that Summer was that I had to know what's worth chasing & what's worth forgetting forever
about an old friend of mine that i isolated myself from when my life took a complete turn
Oshin Lamba Mar 2015
Her feather touch, then tender-glare
Weary eyes on my restless skin
Anticipate, the blissful moment of,
Melting subconsiously in her warmth
Inside the formaldehyde of her laps
Immune to ever pain, nullifying sorrows
Blurs my vision
For a definate dissolution
In love, her love!
My state, concluded by misery
Yells for a dreamy place
This wishful thinking of mother's love.
-Osh
bre Feb 2011
he takes a piece of me everytime he goes
i dont like sharing but its her turn i suppose
i never know whether he will return
if he waits too long that desire of his may burn

he always leaves and will never change
though its my life ive rearranged
he builds me up just to cut me down
i dream of the day i will be found

aluminum may be metal
but it can be damaged by a fly
he wouldnt understand that
for he is a typical guy

perhaps its the idea of him that keeps me alive
but someday ill know what it means for love to thrive
i can feel him under my skin as though he were a parasite
but then i discover that its me living off of his life

he visits me in my most vulnerable state
for, in my dreams, i see nothing but his face
i often wonder if he feels the same

does he have a heart that beats beneath that chest?
shockingly, its my fantasies that make me depressed
always fake and never real
but ill be fine, its not a big deal

physically remaining resistant
but subconsiously wanting another dose
always trying to stay so distant,
while underestimating my urge to be close

if the wall comes down will the city flood?
would he rip out my heart like i know he could?
but all of these words shall remain unspoken,
since i am, once again, broken
bp 2009

— The End —