do you still remember those teachers that actually cared? you know, the ones that would give you extra reading material, stay after school to help you with your coursework, or else, turn up to school in the middle of half term to give you that one last revision session?
such teachers are hard to come by. i had one of them. she was amazing. i loved her to bits. and she made me succeed.
i wrote her a letter yesterday. i just felt like i should. it was like a pang of nostalgia echoing my heartbeat. i think that happens sometimes, when you feel like you need to move on but can’t, because melancholy is seeping through the pores of your skin, dripping down in the form of tears down your face. and then, you have to do something about it or hold your peace forever.
i guess i just never was the one for keeping quiet.
she replied within an hour and made my day, my week, my month.
…it would be lovely to see you again but make sure you give me a ring
and so, i hope to see her again soon.
she was the one teacher who i just can’t seem to forget. i guess she must have taught me a lot.
such teachers are hard to come by.
Posted in chapters of my life
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you’ve done it all,
at last,
the dark horse,
a prize horse,
hoarse from telling lies
inventing goodbyes
so i’m no longer human,
now
a chess piece,
the best piece;
they call it a knight,
but put me to the light
and you will see a horse’s head.
i’d rather be a pawn instead.
————————————————————————
imagine what it would be like to be the face that launched a thousand ships…
Posted in excerpts
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putting up with my chronic unhappiness must drive you mad, my love.
and though i want nothing more than for you to be happy always, sadness never near, as if you put a restraining order on it, don’t expect the same for me. truth is, i almost like being miserable. it’s like it’s my motivation to bring up every frustration at dinner time and know that very little of it really hurts me.
so sweet to taste victory after proclaiming defeat. and when you start winning, you want more. you always want more.
noone ever died from wanting too much
and that could be the soundtrack to my life, it really could.
the world is not enough
but it is such a perfect place to start, my love
but you don’t believe that do you?
you’re happy with the way we are, blissfully unaware of the way i hurt inside, thinking that you expect so much of me, the way every time i feel the burning need to give more and more, but seem able only to give less.
still, this is not the end.
i don’t believe there will be one, because i don’t want it to end. ever. but is that just me wanting too much again?
and right now i’m just not sure. yesterday hurt, if not you, then me. the conversation, the way you looked at me, the cold i felt eminating from the familiar warm mound of you on the bed there.
still, i’ll try to set the memories of our hurts alight, because really there aren’t that many. because i love you more than that.
if we can’t have it all
then nobody will
but, my love, i’m afraid i can’t do a thing about my chronic unhapiness.
it’s become a part of me. just like you.
Posted in chapters of my life
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sometimes i wish to hear your voice:
the soft cacophony of sounds,
your steady breathing interrupting
toungue’s quest to place me in your mouth
each word in lurid reverberation
it’s vowels readily astute,
acute as angle door makes
before closing /
like a new bed or, if you’d rather, wardrobe
i want a van to carry me that voice
as i recline half-open on the floor
i want a man to knock upon my door
and give it to me, there, then, no strings attached,
merely a parcel with a part of you /
if only you knew
sometimes i wish to hear your voice
but daren’t ever let you know /
Posted in excerpts
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oh yes, last night was great. i love the way life works you know: on the night you were away, X was told about you and me.
poor boy.
what sort of friends kick you when you’re down? evidently, his.
i heard you have a new boyfriend.
you used to mention his name so much.
and so what if i talked to him about you? so what if i talked to you about him?
i tried to show you people the whole of me and not the parts you wanted to see. i wanted to prevent you from loving a lie. who knows how i fared? maybe you still are.
but i won’t lie. i never have and i won’t lie to you now – i still give a damn about what’s going on in his life and i never want to let go of this translucent thread between him and me, spanning like a spider’s web into realms of nothingness.
me and X, we don’t see eye to eye, we don’t speak on the phone, we barely exchange a word electronically, but i still don’t want to let go of this remnant. the remnant of my past that lingers like a memory of rich perfume in the cold night air. because there were good times. there were.
and i guess that’s selfish of me, and i guess i’m weak, but i never asked for forgiveness, just acceptance, so when he asks and you need to be gone, why are you still here? and i reply because i still care, i need you to believe me that it’s you i want, not him.
Posted in chapters of my life
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glittering soot on her eyelashes 