This time, in this way.

I liked to keep myself air tight,

sealed all my cuts and scars,

Until one morning I saw the sun break through the clouds,

Every ray falling freely till it pierced the ground and swallowed it whole.

I opened my bandages one by one,

Letting my light out.

I let the sun within me rise,

As the night now lay with my shadows,

Falling behind me.

The dark mistress of the absent moon was defeated, my purpose there, done.

I wore her on my shoulders like a cape,

Falling behind, dragging with every step I take.

It was now time for the light,

I part my lips, let the light out,

Open my mouth to a full

Roar.

the world will witness the aftermath of our collisions.

Destruction.

Let me see if this time we can create a better world.

Better breed of human faced animals.

For after all this,

I’ll carry the light on my face,

And the darkness on my back,

And this time, in this way..

We will even out the world.

Advertisements

From you, till you.

I’ve clawed a grave in my heart,
A 6 feet one inch grave.
The crucifix holds your name,
But I often find my self sleeping in it.

Myself, from you, till you.

I pour a fistful of soil on her,
I knew you were out there,
Hiding in the bushes, watching.
I turn and walk away from me and the hidden you.

I mourn for the grave,
For it never got its rightful owner.

When rivers dry up.

Standing in the middle of the road,
these clouds roaring,
tearing and crying at my feet.

As if screaming out to me,

“We will compensate,
Compensate for all the rivers dried up within you,
because now if you won’t cry, we will fall.
We will fall and remind you
of all the tears that you have cried,
those that were lifted  to make us,

And we will fall, roar and set in you the belief
of how mighty you are,
of how you turn
everything you do to extremes of greatness,
be it love or loss.

We’ll show you the oceans you’ve created.”

Living your lifetime between my lips and my fingertips.

I stand here,
on a bridge,
with you between my fingertips,
no, you don’t look like the 6 ft 1 inch brown guy I knew.
you look like a 2 and a half inch cigarette,
living your lifetime between my lips and my fingertips.
The similarity you’d ask?
Both toxic and addictive.
both, a temporary high.
I watch you burn,
as I take every bit of you in.
This is what I have left of you
The breeze hits my face,
as if slapping me back to reality
I remind myself of how insignificant you are,
while visiting and revisiting you,
watching you, living your lifetime between my lips and my fingertips.

stomping it under my feet
when I’m done and it’s over.
just like you did, maybe?
I guess I did learn a thing or two from you.
And now here I am,
shelving the pain on my forehead with a smile plastered on my lips.
Shhh! They are too afraid to think or speak of you,
slamming shut doors on the thought of you is how they live.

Come, Ill make you a home in my lungs now,
because that is where people don’t see, do they?
All I have is a tangible metaphor of you,
no, you don’t look like the 6 ft 1 inch brown guy I knew.
you look like a 2 and a half inch cigarette,
living your lifetime between my lips and my fingertips.