Christmas lights splatter the city like the stars upon which I wished for you times and again
Faces glisten and gleam with smiles, a euphonious euphoria infect the environment like a disease I wish I too had tonight And , There's me , locked in my room lamenting the loss of a rose I never had , that is you .
You're the shelter I never had but, darling, I can't sleep without you lending me shade the way you do when I'm hypnotized.
Love , It seems an eternal forever since I texted you the last time though it was last night when my body felt heavy like a wrecking ball wrecking itself and I needed you to drain me of that weight. Why aren't you here , dear? We could have walked the streets stained with patches of Christmas lights . We could have become the Christmas lights and glistened .
Christmas lights splatter the city like stars that still bear imprints of my unheard wishes . Faces gleam and glisten with smiles and a certain tint of something punctuates the air and it's certainly not blue , unlike my hue And then there's me , writing in my diary , capturing you in my poems ; There's me writing letters I'll never send u but I'll hold them like treasure.
The monotonous montage of scenic tears on the floor paints an act ... And a mundane muse sits a yard ahead . My love's melancholy is mingled with tears I have Stolen from every unrequited love there is . Everyone sees this romantic epitome calling for Juliet but tears don't sting their eyes Or their lives that dash away like an arrow shot in the heart , And , excuse me , that heart belongs to me - I feel that trickle of blood stinging my eyes .
My tears have painstakingly written poems on this desk and no eraser ever will bring about their erasure , And like lullabies , they will be recited amongst all the unrequited lovers . Everyone sees my poems but poems don't sting their eyes .
This wall shall always bear the weight of my mangled head stuffed with visions of you dancing beside me , smoking beside me , laughing beside me , kissing before my eyes ....... this smoke is tinged with tragedy .
In an a aura silence , like a lover's unread letter , I stood on the cliff painting our history like scenic landscapes on the skies as the sun slips down the horizon ........ And one last time , I memorize you ...
My dialects have changed now - it's your images that infect my phone like a virus I want And I still have you underlying in every wish of mine and there's still an innate craze born inside me for your voice every time I hear it ; I still open my Instagram in search of notifications that never come , and every time I open my WhatsApp , there's a quest of letters from you
I sit under the bulb in my room thinking about you , Photographing you in my journal in my childlike handwriting that has adult-like pangs from the wounds you gave me etched in its skin like a tattoo , Writing sometimes you too might photograph me as that kid so cinematically foolish in your love , As a kid who bore your name in every heartbeat of his like a mystery .
I still sit in my chair by the window , looking at your photo trying to dig you out like minors dig out diamonds , As the sun trawls down the buildings , Writing prayers in the air that sometimes you too come across my photo and reminisce on how we talked and laughed and danced and ate amidst monotonous economics lessons ; And sometimes when you come across Taylor Switft on the TV , Please think of me and think of my favourite song and think of how I used to hum it to you in the secrecy of the last bench ; Sometimes when you remember your school days after a decade, Please remember how my love for you had become a headline in every magazine and how we were scandalized , Please remember how I spilled water on your shirt cuz I was I just too nervous being too close to your lips -- As of me , These memories will live in my eyes, my tears , my pen , in the pristine pages of my diary , in the midnights when my mind shall converse in songs , in the daylight when the vultures will scrounge over me screaming your name : You'll dwell in my bottle that you once drank water from , You'll be the sole resident of the cold bleak edges of your touch on me .
You'll dwell in my changing dialect, that is my memories of you smoking beside me like Lucifer , laughing beside me like a villain that looked so much like my hero in my movie .
My dialect is changing now into a scribble of thoughts beyond your comprehension -- I like to call it my poetry , the blood my bleeding heart.
You always need an arm to cling on to no matter what you undergo , no matter how easy the storm is to get past . But you don't realize this unless you're lying face up like a corpse tired of being dead and cold icicles are falling on you like rain You see, it's all an intricate process but you don't comprehend these little intricacies when all you have to do is tell someone how easy it is to find solace in whatever they own , When all you have to do is preach self-love but self-love is an art and to some it's still an unattainable gem but you don't get how hard it is to hate us and retrieve every single shard of love of our own body specked with flaws after the war ; You don't know what it's like to seek safety in strangers and losing it time and again .
There's a filthy haze of hatred that jets from you every time you can't do it the way you wanted , a haze that bears your name like ancient engravings
It's easy enough to ask anyone to embrace their inner selves the way the mirrors project them , but it's utterly not the case when you try to inhale but end up swallowing this haze , when all you hear is the breaking of all your whims that brim you like poison
You might be wondering what I have seen to profess these inconsequential lessons , but trust me , I have seen everything : I have seen love fly like doves , worn it like a tiara over my head , married it like a husband , nurtured it like an ugly baby in my family's hereditary swaddling that my mother used to enfold me in ; I have watched hate in cracked mirrors and tattered pictures of me , I have been bathed in it an eternity .
I was always too poor to afford a guide , but you always had one - you always had safe hands to place your heart in so you never knew what it's like hold on to an arm and yearn one . You were born on a rich luscious bed of roses but I never had roses ; Everytime I planted them , they died on stormy nights so it's lads like me who know this insatiable craving .
You always need an arm to cling on to amongst hasty acquaintances , Amidst nasty nightmares that envelope you like a strikingly dark curtain but just can't diagnose the depths of a nightmare unless you're haunted by one yourself in the broad daylight, in front of everyone you know but there's no one to reach out to your screams .
I had my eyes closed when that cold breeze kissed my dozed face along with caressing the green happy shrubs of the mistletoe right in my sight as if was trying to touch and then compare who is happier at the time.
I could feel the moon trying talk to me gazing through the clouds, maybe, she was a bit covetous to see me in the warmth of your arms through that cold and blue night, as you were trying to put me a little closer to your heart, the moon started to fade, embracing her scars and hiding her face towards the other side of the earth so as she may give us space to conceal our hearts in the same sphere.
That mistletoe as was trying to call me around it and pour her love over us, maybe she never wanted to mark her presence for us kiss my lips down that green shrub, will you?
Maybe, I'm a little lucky or I'm a little luckier, cause, of course, I'm lucky as I got you by me, no matter how cold, dark and deep the night is, yours is the only light my eyes seeks for cause you only are the one I want to consecrate my time for.
// The moon is never alone, it's always around the closest star from a distance//
The clouds sloshing white curtains of lightening with red hot swords. The rain bleeds painting the giant canvas of sky in purple tones of acrylic. Sitting by the glassy windows and pouring limpid golden honey on top of my muffins, I watch the memories hung delicately inside the closet of my heart overflowing on the floor.
The floral garden in my heart perfumed with laveders that once bloomed under the warmth of my lover's arms has turned into a graveyard teeming with the whiff of betrayal. The chaotic and cruel wildfire burning the dense forest of my heart is spreading dangerously. The howling winds knocking on my wooden doors are the harbingers of melancholy humming the notes of deceit.
Those scarlet roses tucked safely that flushed my cheeks now seems thorny briars and pricky gross piercing my skin whenever I touch them. Putting his confederates in flames this morning couldn't burn the pages of tragic love story in which I played the lead role. Perhaps the sky is consoling me to weep in the rain outside so that no one could see the train of tears running down the track.
The petrichor is swollen with hope for me to breathe, to live and bloom again in the charismatic sparklers of the moonlight.
"What do you do ?" He asked me with his serene voice. He was gazing at me and might want to listen an answer from my aquiver lips. But those lips were silent. He was looking towards me.
Those limber katydids were crooning but I was not in the mood to listen so I whispered. "I am a seller dear ; selling lies through my metaphors." I looked at him but his look was something different which I could feel.
//Wearing the anklets of melancholies, I put on a smile on my lips like the coral pink lipstick. I lied//
It started raining again and I looked towards the sky which was no longer azure and those menaces of blackness hid the moon and those stars. But I was searching for a star to share my agonies. But noone was there except him.
I looked at him and he was standing behind me holding that umbrella but not on my head. I was getting wet with him. He was smiling but I couldn't feel his smile.
"Let's get wet together. This megalopolis will never forget you and your lies and the rain song of a mad girl" He whispered near my left ear.
Then we smiled together. The zephyr of rain was abutting both of us and our smile was shattering on the velarium of the enchanting city.
I had a really good time visiting your home the last week. It felt like an embodiment of peace, of tolerance, of love. Though we come across you everyday in one way or the other - be it moving across a turtle-paced Streets, Visiting those gigantic Buildings having your name inscribed over it or their walls showing your half-naked portraits or your smiling face in different shades and hues. Tell me Why is that Smile? Are you smirking ? Relieved that You are not alive anymore, huh ?! To watch all that these world is going through - All this mania, this fanaticism gripping our planet currently. I know you have seen all these happen already, probably way beyond this. You have seen rivers of human blood flow, you have felt the torridity fuming from destruction of cities, you too have felt that helplessness on hearing the cries of innocent children's in the detention centers. Yet, you were lucky to be in that age, the things were in black and white - and the game was still played fairly. Come today, the world has a spectrum of Colors - You never know which ends where and where the other begins. Your Black and White were firm on their ground, and today - the blues can become green and green yellow - the only colour that was common to your time and ours is this Bloody Red. Yes, the blood of all human is still red - no matter their race, caste, ethnicity, region, religion, creed, language, values or any other criteria this world invents to divide itself into. Yet, we are all made of the same elements, same cells and bones and flesh and organs. You have always stood up for it, this equality of all - and I must admit, you were successful to a great extent in the retrospective. Still today, most people are believer of this values of which you were premier advocate, preacher and practitioner. It is probably better than during your time - when it was universal tolerance, while we are into an age of universal brotherhood. But due to the greed, lust and limited motives of a few handful of people all the good in the world seems to evaporate, what's left is the black, swart dirt. Today, we need you evermore - this humankind is set to destroy itself and the mother Earth as well, and the seed of all this is the seed of Hatred, of Greed, of lust. Come back to teach this world about Love, Contentment, Asceticism, Co-operation and Brotherhood. Come and enlighten the Visions of the Blinds and those trying to be blind by putting on blinders. For, as you said 'An Eye for an Eye, will make the whole world blind.'