the one thing i can’t be is honest. though there are many other adjectives that stare at me from their balconies at midnight as i walk and crawl through the dirt road, through the pool of lights, crying and shouting and breaking dreams in every home that i pass by. i hear them shaking their heads with disapproval and hopelessness. i look at their hazy shadows and try to hate them in equal measures but i don’t because they are so easy to forget. but this honesty, this honesty that people expect vexes me. this expectation makes me want to hide, run, run over their hearts all because it is so simple. all because the ones who ask me of this through their tears are not mere observers but are the ones struggling to stay close to me fighting the unnecessary sandstorm i create everyday. they are the ones who deserve honesty. they are the ones i don’t deserve. but my dishonesty is not only for this world. it is the only thing i can offer to myself as well. so again, i wake up in their arms with another lie ready on my lips. i hug them with with my true love and my false heart. i don’t try to make it right when they are in shambles again because there is no fancy way to put it, there is no beauty in what i do, there is no promise i would keep. there are only people who i leave. even when i can’t bear to miss one more person again.
Before knowing the alphabets of your name or mine, I learnt to make you smile. I pluck another flower that makes me sneeze every time but the silly pathetic me smiles as you smile as I crawl to you losing balance, losing something similar to heart, as I dress you up in a mountain of petals I clenched too hard hoping you would never move away from me. How you dozed off as I made myself sick with my ambition. How you were still sleeping as your mother took you in arms brushing away every piece of my care. But it is better than the days I woke up with only the traces of my feelings, my cradle of flowers without you in it.
“You have changed”, I want to say. But the more you change, the more familiar you get.
Now you look like the girl who lied she is my friend. You look like the boy who crawled into my skin only to confirm that I can feel the hurt just as he can. You look like my hand that loves to strangle my heart. You look like the sad unwelcoming roads to my breaking home. You look like the one who desperately want to be remembered for leaving me in parts.
I want to say that I loved someone else that couldn’t possibly be you.
But you are a person of this world, you are the same as everyone else. You sit here with me hoping that you weren’t mine, hoping that I would look familiar to you if you looked long enough.
I close your heart. I stitch you back in a same haphazard way I do almost everything in life. The same way I knocked down every clumsy fragile landmark that could have actually helped me at the end.
From your mouth I have come to know that my hopes are tied to the throats of my saviors. That you are disgusted as you see me sitting on top of sleepless nights as I help myself with another serving of self-pity that I won’t be able to digest. That I laugh a little too long at the every joke that the world plays on repeat, all the while the cruel thread that I am I cut the skin, I cut the voice, I cut the air.
“this what i am, change me in an easy way, see this is how i am hurting, why won’t you look at me when you said you wanted was the real me”
I say as I try to crawl back into the hide of your love.
“i will stitch you back, if i have hurt you. if you want to hear goodbye, i will say it a thousand times. please, please stop crying. please for once hesitate before you ask for the door out. ask for once if it was easy to take in your sorrows, your demons, your cold shoulder. ask for once how i have fared, how i have come this far, how am i letting you go, letting you be, after loving you so badly. “
i crawl into another embrace, scratch the surface of my fake love to find something true. hopes. hopes. is this what they call hope? it must be.
the coffee turns cold as my story ends. again i am wearing a skin i have stolen. the one breathing beside me has a knack for sad stories recited by happy girls, of being a knight to one he doesn’t have to save.
me, i love drowning the world in sadness (the only way i can take anyone’s breath away) i love leaving loose ends, leaving people behind- i call it the fear of being left behind. i have a list of similar innocent motivation for every mess i make, for the mess i have become.
when he leaves i throw away the coffee he never drinks. i get over my urge to be seen for what i am. i dip my fingers into another color that he might like, or at least remember.
There is a wall of flowers before her. She looks at it as if they are a softer kind of firework, a firework in reverse, the colors leaving the petals, crawling deep into itself, leaving the color of the inevitable sad ending that Nature always ends up falling for, after a series of boys who lied to her about a forever in their mellow green kisses.
A lesson on subtraction for a girl trying to learn about the reasons and the ways a void like hers is created.
As I use your ideals and words as the dressing to the greens that I hate, that I find hard to chew, I try to make myself understand you, convince myself that I am in wrong and I just know it yet. I remind myself that this time I can’t get it wrong, that this time I can’t run from all that I have chosen. I have lost a lot just because I wanted to live as me, I can’t loose you as well. When I begin to hate myself for losing my life in your eyes, I tell myself that one day I would thank myself for holding onto you in spite of all. So when I break and when it hurts, when I see that all this is not good for me, I crawl into your embrace silently asking you to tie me to yourself, to stop me from ruining all that we have.
She left the door ajar
and closed the curtains as she left,
like she did so many things
that I didn’t ask her to do.
Like so many things I didn’t notice.
Did I fear darkness of the room?
Did I fear drifting into sleep
no longer be sure
that this body would continue breathing?
I feared a lot.
I knew the names of imaginary insects
that crawled inside my mind.
But only she knew how to close my eyes
and close my heart
to the pain and paranoia
that only I could feel.
I woke up to curtains soaking the sunlight
and the sweet humming from next room.
And I didn’t want this humming
to go farther