Hope

If you listen to this sadness,

you’ll find a soothing rhythm,

a lullaby waiting to be sung,

the one that’ll finally put you to sleep.

When you touch the pieces of this broken heart,

you’ll find they aren’t as sharp as you made them out to be.

Yes, they make you bleed,

but would you rather not bleed out the sadness

than let it flow through your veins?

They call it melancholy,

for they do not know the reasons behind why you’re always bleeding.

If they ever bothered to listen,

they’d find the lyrics to a hauntingly beautiful song,

in the cadence of your heart.

Of moutains and lakes and clear reflections

​Someday when you a wake up to a gorgeous view with mountains and lakes and clear reflections, I hope you’re able to enjoy it without a care in the world. I hope you forget all your worries and regrets in that moment. I hope your wounds would have healed by then and your brokenness would have been fixed, if only by band-aids or hastily applied clay. Or maybe, just maybe, you’ll have someone beside you to enjoy this view with. Someone who might be the perfect fit to fill that gaping hole you’ve been walking around with since so long. Someone who will take you up into the clouds and who knows how to fly even with all the baggage you’ve been carrying around. I hope you wake up to a gorgeous view, with mountains and lakes and clear reflections and I hope you have that someone right next to you, smiling lazily at you while you take in the wonders of the world and I hope that someone thinks, “Who wants the world when I have this one sitting right next to me?”

Sun colored.

Painted in the colors of the sun,

She burned down everyone who touched her.

You’d see her shining down upon you,

So bright and ethereal.

You’d want some of her light for yourself,

And you’d try to love her,

And she’ll love you back.

Trust me, she will,

Because to love is all she ever wants.

But the closer you try to get,

The harder she’ll push you away.

The world remembers Icarus

As the one that flew too close to the sun.

She, too, has a bit of a reputation herself,

For, she’s lonely and bright,

And is painted in the colors of the sun,

Known to burn down everyone who touches her.

Hope found another

​Self-destruction and pity parties,

There’s a storm brewing inside.

There’s a calmness

That brings in voices

Not so calm, after all.

A deluge of wandering thoughts,

Form a skull-like facade,

Warning me to step back,

Until I’m backed into a wall.

“Let me out”, I say,

“Let us in”, they whisper.

Whispers turn to shouts,

And there’s lightning and there’s thunder,

“Where will you go? How far can you run?”

And I look up at them,

The voices fading out

As I see them for what they are,

Wandering thoughts in my head,

Taking shape of my deepest, darkest fears.

“I don’t run”, I whisper.

“I don’t run”, I shout.

And love lost its way

But hope found another.

Toxic

His toxicity matched mine. We were both killing each other at the same damn time, just as slowly as the other. And ironically, that made life worthwhile. With him gone, the toxins are sure out of my life, but in some weird twisted way, those toxins were just as important for my existence as oxygen is.

Learning to Love Myself

Love, I was starting to think that with you gone, I was gone, too. I wasn’t wrong to think that. I really am gone. The me who laughed for you, who wrote for you, who cried for you, who lived for you is gone. She died the day you left. But I found myself a new identity. Lost under all those layers that I put on to please you, there was a girl who yearned to live for herself, who wanted to sing and laugh and dance and write without having a care in the world. When you left, all those layers fell apart and the girl timidly stepped out into the world; Lost, scared and broken. But with each day that passed, she found her strength and learned to live. With your memories, without you. Until one morning, the pain felt bearable and she smiled, a real smile. And she laughed and cried and sang and danced. For herself. For the day you left, love, she learned to love herself. I learned to love myself.

A Forgotten Name.

She’d write her name with yours,
Write and rewrite.
Her name, it looked beautiful in ink,
Not really understanding your betrayal,
While in reality,
It bled.
Just like her heart.
The longer she stared at the ink,
The more red it seemed to get,
Until it too turned into blood,
Seeping through
The pages of her journal.
The pages of her life.
Stained and ugly,
She tried to wash those stains away,
Not really caring
That she was washing away her existence,
Until only a smear remained
On the leather-bound exterior.
It tells stories now,
Of a how a life was exhausted,
While washing away the stains
Left by betrayal.
Of how, even on paper,
She wouldn’t let there be any signs
That’d mar your name.
Of how, she loved you so much,
She washed away her name from yours,
Just so it’d continue to look beautiful.
To be beautiful.
Without her ugly existence.
image

Not a fairytale ending.

“We’re better off without each other.” Six words and it took two years for her to gather all the courage to utter those and for the first time in forever, she wanted him to disagree with her. “I think so too.” Four words and she could feel her heart cracking again.
“I found someone. We might get engaged soon.” Another crack. This one much bigger, much more painful. She smiled. “Don’t you want to know about her?” Her smile grew wider, “How is she?” “You don’t want to know what she does?” She nodded, “What does she do? How is she? Tell me all about her.” With every word he spoke, she found how the girl was so much better than she ever could be. And with every passing second, it hurt more. He showed her a picture of them both, standing together. The way they both once did. And that was it. Her heart shattered, into a million tiny pieces. Time won’t heal her this time. She smiled. “Please don’t cry,” he said. She smiled wider, “I’m not. I’m happy for you.” He hugged her, she blinked, trying to not let the tears flow and closed her eyes, trying to memorise how his arms felt around her, how she fit just right against him and how his embrace never felt wrong.
She loved him. He loved her. But theirs was not to be a fairytale ending.