yes, you are right, i should like to hide my head in the sand and pretend all that darkness is nothing but light shining through a filter tinted the colour of night. i should pretend last night never happened, i should pretend i am content here by your side in the leafy undergrowth of life where all i see are roots uprooted, dying in the sun. and would you blame me?
i could not sleep last night, thinking of the shining lights enveloping you, pillow over my head to drown out hurt. i wondered if i ought to watch a film, but that would be defeat. no, i would lay here and count your wrongs, my wrongs, the cracks in the ceiling of our hearts, thoughts, lives.
soon, soon, the artery would rupture and drown out the pain.
soon, soon.
i knew i couldn’t cut myself. what with? a knife? i could almost hear you saying don’t be silly in that tone of yours. and pills, what good would it do? only that i may die without salvation, without the knowledge of how to cling to love by the skin of your fingertips. or maybe i know that already.
and i can’t live with all that poison, not even just for tonight. i would fight but my limbs have gone to sleep and i am faced with a picture of you in the club, music pounding, drinks flowing, girls dancing.
and i realise i can’t say that there is anything missing. there is not.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged all, almost, already, and, anything, are, artery, be, blame, bring, by, can't, ceiling, cling, club, colour, content, could, couldn't, count, cracks, cut, dancing, darkness, defeat, die, do, don't, drinks, drown, dying, enveloping, even, faced, fight, film, filter, fingertips, flowing, girls, gone, good, happened, have, head, hear, hearts, here, hide, how, hurt, in, is, just, knew, knife, know, knowledge, last, lay, leafy, life, light, lights, like, limbs, live, lives, love, may, maybe, me, missing, music, my, myself, never, night, not, nothing, of, only, ought, our, out, over, pain, picture, pillow, pills, poison, pounding, pretend, realise, right, roots, rupture, salvation, sand, say, saying, see, shining, should, side, silly, skin, sleep, soon, sun, that, the, there, thinking, thoughts, through, tinted, to, tone, tonight, undergrowth, uprooted, watch, what, where, with, without, wondered, would, wrongs, yes, you, your, yours
I glisten like humidity on windows
of brazen memories of not so long ago
and you look through that glass into the night,
presence of my ghost lingering behind
as moonlight shines and stars above you shimmer
I continue to simmer.
——————————————————-
this is a poem from so long i don’t care to remember. it was a scribble on a notepad some solitary evening. about Y, of course. i dedicated few poems to X. it was Y that i loved.
and now, here we are: Y has just gotten engaged. the status flashed up as the first notification on my facebook homepage. c’est la vie and i don’t regret it. so long the finger isn’t mine, he can put all the rings on it he wants.
i don’t need a cage, just love, like nectar, flowing freely.
so give me love!
Posted in excerpts
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can you tell me, why de ja vu haunts me like a predator stalking its only surviving prey? the de ja vu, embossed with its frenchness. just like you. just like those kisses you plant on my lips, their buds opening in the middle of the darkest nights, as i wake in cold sweat, clammy hands turning on the lights to chase the demons away.
and i realise, that love is french, italian, dominican. but more than that, it’s foreign to all of us. it’s language – mysterious hum in the early-morning air, it’s lands – unbounded by borders, it’s people waking up every morning, just like the rest of us, seductive scent of coffee in their kitchens, shatter of broken cups imprinting its echo on the windows.
and when i think of love, i think of the mess that coffee would make, drops collecting, puddle spreading with every beat of the heart. my mess.
and it doesnt touch you. you’re not really here. not entirely.
and love doesn’t cut you with its broken china or stain your slippers with instant coffee, fresh those marble tiles.
does it touch you at all?
…
it’s been three months now and i’ve nothing to tell me that i’m yours, only a herbarium of those flowers you bought me the day my mother went to the zoo with my little sister in tow.
only a dead plant, in an envelope somewhere, next to Y’s unopened loveletters and the note that X kissed so that a part of him may remain with me forever, or whatever his reasoning was.
and at night, in somebody’s kitchen, in a land far away, my heartbeat keeps the coffee flowing.
Posted in chapters of my life
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glittering soot on her eyelashes 