Saturday, 30 January 2016


Sometimes I see the world as a deception. A complete lie.

They tell you M's fine, when it's growing inside her, the cancer. The world is lying.

C smiles. Changes the floor of her house. Then leaves that house. To herself, she's lying.

C finds another house. Finds new people. Then in the crowds, she feels alone. To the new people she's lying.

A smiles and prays for her, tells her she's beautiful. He loses his faith in himself, his life and buries everything inside with a smile on that face. He's lying.

S's been dead for six years now. Six years.
Looking at his sister breaks me into pieces.
Every time I lose more than I can fix.
The cancer is back inside M.

This is probably why I never wanted to live. Every day is about defending why not-to-die.

Don't try to wake me up in the morning, 'cause I'll be gone.
Don't feel bad for me, I want you to know
Deep in the cell of my heart, I will feel so glad to go.

Thursday, 21 January 2016

Be brave.

She closed the windows of the house, grabbing the keys drove off.

On the way listening amidst the blaring radio, she heard something tell her that she wasn't in love. She agreed and thought it to be deception, the one that has somethings to offer.

When she met him, and looked him in the eye, she saw in those eyes something she longed for.

With a thumping heart, she held his hands.

When he kissed her, she took all the lies from within her, to the outside.

They surrounded her, screamed at her.

This time, she didn't pay them off with more lies.

 This time, she fought with the truth.

The lies packed their bags and left.

She was left with herself, him and the truth.

She fell in love, yet again.

This time with herself too.

"I’m tired, tired of being enclosed here. I’m wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there; not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart; but really with it, and in it."
-Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights 

Tuesday, 12 January 2016

No more silence.

To A,

Sometimes I wish we never met.

We never took things beyond those conversations.

We never left for your place that night.

Sometimes, I wish we remained the strangers we were to each other.

And on random days, had coffee together (or maybe, not).

We'd sit together, write our hearts out in our worlds, and then shared our stories, knowing the few who understood it, included you.

I sometimes wish we never broke each other.

But then, there are 12th Januaries in my life, and solitude in yours.

In being together, we just kept getting better at being strangers.

I wish we could go back to those new year celebrations not knowing who we were, just two strangers, sitting by themselves and their broken worlds and re-did this time together.

This time, we kept each other at bay.

Talked about it, about things.

Maybe, I could find the strength to stay, maybe you could find the love to make me stay.

Maybe not.

"Every day someone fell in love with the wrong person and had to pack up all their fragile, misguided hopes and unwanted affection, and move on.” 
— Josh Lanyon. Perfect Day