I Want To, I Want You

I want to taste you. All the sadness and the pain.

I want to lick all of which that remained.

I want my tongue to learn, lead then memorise the way.

I want to devour your presence. All thoughts, regrets and shame.

I want to strip the social mask and disguise we were raised to make.

I want to see you bare to a point where fear finally languishes then steers away.

I want to collect the chunks of you. You gave to those who didn't stay.

I want to hold them close; save to where mine remain.

I want to fill the cracks of me with every bit of you.

I want to contain every ounce of existence that makes you.

I want to talk with you; unfolding, revealing and outpouring my whole to you.

I want to hear the heartbeats pulsating when I'm with and without you.

I want to learn your rambles and banter, and all the confused words you sew.

I want to learn all the meanings to the poems, pieces and words you wrote.

I want your stories to be heard, more than many and multiple times.

I want to hold your hands; interlocking fingers, in a perfect lock that defies time.

I want you as you are.

I want you as you come to be.

I want the heaviness of your embrace.

I want the memories; both good and bad to make.

I want the sickness and mistakes. 

I want your heart as my lighthouse.

I want your shoulder to cry on.

I want to bend to the way you say my name.

I want to protect your aura and guard it with all the strength it takes.

I want the words you speak to always fulfil all of which I seek.

I want to reach my full potential, with you next to me.

I want the longing and craving for you to always excite me.

I want to take all my time to know and understand you.

I want the wait to be worth it for the fire I'm heating for you.

I want your thoughts in words to penetrate their way to the very core of me.

I want you when you're ugly and hidden.

I want to read you differently from how they all see you.

I want to share my peaceful moments away from the world, with you.

I want my solitude to include you.

I want my sense to make love to where yours is.

I want my body to be a pool, only you're allowed in.

I want you to read me like a conversation.

I want your little things to always be noted.

I want the heaven in me, to hold you in always.

I want the big picture, painted with the many colours of you.

I want my soul to recognise the real you.

I want my understanding of you to meet your understanding of me.

I want to be one where everything fell, and felt effortlessly.

I want the doubt and second-guessing to be removed entirely.

I want the road of honesty, to always lead you to me.

I want you with all the faults and mutations.

I want you my inspiration.

My silence is loud. My silence is written.

My words are for you. No longer missing. 

Oh the irony (Until next time)

"Your writings are very confessional

 I can almost taste your words

And what a bittersweet 

taste that is" 

"Nah, I'm just a ho 

with too much time in her hand"

2013 can suck it. I have been looking for meanings everywhere these past couple of days, yet somehow, ended up suffocating myself with the usual 'what if this was that instead of how it is now?' does that even make sense? My brain tends to function in its own way, I have managed to read three books simultaneously; without actually finishing any, but I have acquired new information in a faster rate than I would've had if I was being a goody two shoes square with one at a time (apply sexually charged something here, for all the perverts) Hey, I'm just getting started... 

Have you ever googled something, only for the sake of googling it, yet somehow found yourself in page no. 9 of the search pages? (let's face it, if you go passed the first page, then you're desperate) I did that the other day (other day could mean any day; used here to imply a sense of suspense, also my memory tend to suck sometimes) anyway, I found myself googling 'How to be happy?' with the question mark included to imply that it was a rather series question and not a rhetorical one (which BTW I happen to love!) So yeah, back to my point (if there was any in the first place) Google gave me a list of steps to follow, a bunch of pictures of plain faces and fake smiles and I sat there wondering; Well, is this it? 

It was. As much as it pains me to say (I really don't like that phrase, pain is always private, keep it that way!) Google didn't help me, the way it did with all those late-night assignments and essays I used to write in the last minute (it's never good to do that, you shouldn't do that. Hi, kids!) I sat there wondering, well if Google couldn't help then it must be a helpless case, aye? 

It wasn't. As I sat there, deleting the search history (Get your mind out of the gutter... wait was it just me? OMG) I realised there was an easy solution, that I was to think of, if I wasn't so damn "21st century girl" the easy solution; the simplest one in that was to; Let it be. 

I totally hijacked The Beatles just there, but its all good. I'm all about that Beatlemania! (I gets it) 

I have realised what my problem is; I think too much about things that don't require too much thinking. So what? Dylan wrote that song in ten minutes, and it makes no sense whatsoever, yet it has so much depth to it, man! just listen to it. So what? her face is as white as her shirt but her hands a different shade. So what? my friend's a feminist who I sometimes hate (really dislike. 'hate' is a strong emotion) So what? Life gives you lemon even though you're allergic. So what? I don't make sense and this post was entirely a waste of time and blog space. So what? I seriously considered getting a 'rapping' name. So what? I never read Animal Farm till this day (I find it somewhat condescending) So what? I'm all about that rhyming game. So what. 

Oh the irony. 

It's been a long day, I have deprived myself from sleep (only because I'm cool and busy; busy being cool) and also, whenever I leave my brain unsupervised, it usually tend to run in circles like that. Oh I wanna watch The Shining. Bye.

2013 is almost over bitches. (please let's refrain from using that word... actually, you know what? So what, go ahead, be my guest) 

In the end: Did I happen to make a point with this? Yay? Nay? If I didn't...

So what.


-- Oddly enough I never even say so what in real life; I always thought it to be an annoying phrase... Oh the irony. 

Cowards

-"Don't lie to me, I don't like being lied to
Anything you do; go right ahead and do it
Just don't lie to me the way you did with them"

-"With who?"

-"The men in your life"

-"There are none"

-"Thats a lie"

-"You don't believe me?"

-"No"

-"Then why do you talk to me?"

-"I seek something"

-"What?"

-"I don't know what it is"

-"What do you want from me?"

-"Lies, I want more of your lies"

-"I thought you said no more?"

-"I lied"

-"Why?"

-"I don't know"

-"Are you okay?"

-"Don't do that"

-"Do what?"

-"Pretend to care"

-"But I do care"

-"Don't"

-"Why?"

-"I don't want you to"

-"What do you want from me?"

-"Hurt"

-"I can't do that"

-"Yes you can"

-"I stopped"

-"Why?"

-"I prefer lies"

-"Why?"

-"I don't know"

-"What do you want from me?"

-"Connection"

-"What else?"

-"Conversation"

-"What else?"

-"Commitment"

-"What else?"

-"Thats enough for me"

-"Nothing is enough for you"

-"Why do you hate me?"

-"I wish I can"

-"Why?"

-"To have you constantly on my mind"

-"You've changed"

-"I am the same"

-"You're not to me"

-"I was never anything to you"

-"That's a lie"

-"I don't lie"

-"I don't know you"

-"True"

-"Why?"

-"You want the wrong things"

-"What things?"

-"Me"

-"Thats only one thing"

-"And what comes after"

-"What will?"

-"I don't know"

-"Do you know anything?"

-"I know everything"

-"Do you know me?"

-"I stopped"

-"Why?"

-"You're a liar"

-"I'm protective"

-"Doesn't matter"

-"Yes it does"

-"People don't change"

-"True"

-"I've tried"

-"I did too"

-"Well then goodbye"

-"Goodbye to you too" 

pieces

"She is so naked and singular.
Climb her like a monument.
Step after step." - Sexton

The Old Man & The Journal

You've turned your life into poetry because you're unhappy. You miss an old sentimental beat and you wonder why there is no ease, an old man once said to me, I told him; writers don't lie, they simply twist a truth, that no longer serves them in the way they hoped it'll always do. And what is your truth? he asked of me, I shook my head when I realised I had no answer to give.

Like a memory that fades away, that is how I feel of existence today, maybe tomorrow will be a different day, but for now, there is no escaping this heartache. I met an old man in the park today, I was sitting near him on a bench opposite a small river, both feeding the pigeons in; he resembled my father in his appearances; or so I thought at first, to much later, I realised it was only my selfish need to have him to keep, because my own wasn't anywhere in sight when it came to a need I had.

I was carrying a black journal that I had placed by my side, he must have noticed it to which he asked; "Are you a writer of some kind?" "A sentimental diary of my past events and overall life" I replied, "Do you mind reading me a few? Is that alright?" I hesitated at first, then nodded my head, and opened the journal to reveal whats inside:

" 'I am floating, floating in unconsciousness; I don't know why, happiness is so close I can grasp it with my own desperate hands, but twice before it had lied... Twice before, my dear God! I am tired of this restless clinging to all the hopelessness I can't seem to find the courage to fight. A million souls trapped inside, where is my personality hiding at?' "

I raised my head to look at him, he was looking at the ground; I was concerned, was I revealing too much of my state of mind? "Please continue my dear child" he spoke with a pleasant tone that made me relax, I skipped a few pages and opened a random one to start, reading in a brittle rhyme:

" 'I miss my old friend, he passed away last night, took his own life without leaving a note behind. How bizarre of me to be stating facts; like I'm reading the news to just another suicide. Do I even remember him, or the way he used to laugh? I can't even remember what he looks like. People come and go; they're all passing by, One day I'll disappear without a trace to find.' "

The old man was looking at me this time, his lips formed a hard line, to which calmed when he said: "Would you mind reading for me a last time? A recent one, if you don't mind" I skipped a number of pages, and the air skipped a few, a random page appeared and I proceeded to read it through:

" 'I love the man in my dreams, the one in my head that won't ever leave. I love the man in my mind, the one who says the kindest words and makes no demands. I love the man in my heart, I'm in love with the darkness he provides.' "

The old man was smiling this time, and I was smiling too, I closed the journal and then he said:"Your vision finally came true, you can now see me the way I see you" I understood him without having to say another word, for my mind finally believed the lie my heart formed. I've turned my life into poetry and I've grown old to those; stories of love lost and the man I adored the most, he passed away without leaving me a note, but I found my solitude in these poems I wrote.

I am the old man and the journal I wrote is the last remaining piece of a life I no longer know.

Lick My College Degree, First

A little intellect never hurt nobody, try and be somebody. I believe that a woman's choice to do/be whatever it is she wants is entirely up to her, I totally support that. I'm not a feminist, nor will I ever claim to be one (I have said that before and yes I do think its worth repeating) I believe in free will, and personal preferences, a woman has the power of reason; within herself, to find a solid -affirmative- answer to why she's doing what she's doing. Here's the thing, I am writing this post out of frustration, for the state of which -some- feminists think they can go, where they have the audacity to compare pop culture figures (and I use the term figures very loosely here) to role models, I am going to get mad, not only that but I might as well bust a cab up your ass! I'm done with that bullshit. Can I live?

**An introductory** 

I have never had a role model, I mean yes; there are women that I feel are outstanding in what they do, and my life had been shaped with powerful women; from my mother (A.K.A the go-getter) to my aunt (A.K.A the beatnik) to my other aunt (A.K.A shit just got real) and last but -certainly- not least my favourite one -may she rest in peace- my aunt the peacemaker (A.K.A the flower child) so with that being said, I think I know a little about my personality's strengths and where it lies, and also I think I know how my individuality came to be what it is today. 

My aunt once gave me a simple advice, that made a lot of difference to the way I handled things; she said: Never allow a man to pay for your dinner if you can pay for it yourself, there's nothing worse -for a woman- to be in this world than a gold-digger, If you have the money to pay for yourself, then never hesitate. Can you guess which aunt said that? From that moment on, I viewed my independence in a completely new way, it really does surprise me -till this day- how few words can carry with them such change. 

**Anyway, lets get back to my source of frustration, enough family rumination**

When I think of pop culture figures, I immediately think: vaginas and hairdos, that's all there is to it, nowadays, isn't it? I haven't lived in the time where John Lennon and Yoko were the equivalent to what Twerking is right now (I should take a step back for I can't believe I just said that) obviously times are changing, and be it the year 2013, where originality; though it might exists, it is rather difficult to find, everything that these female singers are doing -nowadays- is nothing other than the lively-format of 'copy and paste' from someone else. As boring as that is, that is not why I'm frustrated, no, I am frustrated because feminists (that think they can speak for the entire population of women) are holding these singers up on a pedestal, and are over-analysing whatever nonsense coming out of these singers end, I mean, really? are you kidding me? how can you take any of that shit seriously? Basically what I see here, is nothing more  than the war of airheads; one side has no brains whatsoever and the other side has little but no common sense, for they choose to debate with the no-brains side. UGH! LEAVE! 

**Say no to airheads** 

Women are beautiful. There is no denying that, I have actually had an infatuation with nude photography for some time now, there's something so raw and real (can I talk hipster like?) in the bare body of a woman, so confident in displaying it with no signs of shame or embarrassment because of stretch marks or the many other things women tend to complain about. A woman's body is her choice, to do with it as she pleases. That's it. I hate it when the simple act of expressing one's artistry, turns into an ugly acquisition for someone else, to do/say what they want with it, like when feminists poke their noses into such thing as nude photography, stamp their feet and snap their fingers, with a 'no, no, no' because in their opinion, such photography is the grand glorification of women's objectification that they have been fighting against for some time, I wonder if they look at themselves in the mirror, naked, admiring a tan they recently acquired or a toned figure that was the result of recent trips to the gym, and think: oh shit, was I objectifying myself just then?! A woman doesn't simply reduce herself to a mere object by posing nude. Get that through your heads, feminists! 

**Brains then Beauty** 

I value my intelligence deeply, I love to learn all that is I need to learn, about my interests, all of which that shapes me and my way of thinking. A woman that relies solely on her looks will be a beautiful addition to the silent museum of beautiful beings, and then what? without a character there's really nothing sufficient to hold the weight of that beauty; no matter how unreal it is. The problem with this generation (can I talk grandma like?) is they never had to sacrifice anything for the benefit of something else; this fortune allowed us the gift of indulging in things, that perhaps our parents never had the time for; things like, all the social media networks that circulate the daily and day-to-day interactions, young women are more concerned with picking the right profile picture (out of the many duck-lipped selfies that were taken) and then what? post the picture and feel beautiful? Uh... ok. 

Here's how I see it, theres nothing wrong with making beauty your calling card, (I can feel the feminist heat) but honestly that card will get overused then tortured, and in no time, there's nothing exciting in the silent museum of beautiful beings, you feel me? And that is why, I urge my young cousins and any young female I encounter, I always urge them to learn more about what they're passionate about, what it is they're good at, to excel more, find your interests wherever it may be. beauty can only take you so far. 

A woman's body is her choice; if she wants to pose nude, if she wants to sell it, if she wants to set it on fire. It is her choice. Unless a woman is presenting herself as a mere object and nothing else, then that's a different story, other than that, being objectified is really not her fault, but the fault of the male gaze that was trained to view it that way. When a man offers you nothing but compliments and shallow words, learn that this man only sees/cares about the external you, until/unless he learns about the inner you, the internal being, your thoughts, and all that is that shapes your mental state, then know that, he's one of the few good ones. Cause brains triumphs beauty, every damn time. 

**A final word** 

Hey, "so called" feminists, goeth fucketh thyself! 

Bucket Of Wonder

If you want to love me, then here's your chance, when the world is swallowed in its endless, restless noise outside, you'll find me with a bucket of wonder waiting for you inside, filled with the magic of the first night we held hands, the conversation that last and last, the way your eyes tend to shine when it sees me smile, the way my hand fit perfectly like a harmony when you held it tight.

I'm here with the warm smile you gave to me, I'm here with the decision to be, I'm here away from the haunts of yesterday, I'm here opened to the possibilities of everyday, I'm here where I found my place next to you, I'm here where I belong with you, I'm here in every way you can imagine, even in my dreams I find you there standing.

As sweet as honey is to my skin, as alive as the sunrise in a long field trip, as wide as the open road that calls me in, as corny as these words I tend to give. You feel like home away from all that is familiar, you feel like nostalgia; pure, unadulterated nostalgia, clothed then soaked in the innocence of a child's heart, you feel like the full white moon that lights up the dark sky, you feel like the stars that carries the heavy wishes of all the broken hearts, you feel like chocolate; liquid as your name drips from my tongue, you feel like an old friend's long awaited hug, you feel like wonderful in its most simple, yet elegant way; you are the indie film mesmerising in every way.

You feel like my favourite books and songs combined in one, you feel like the words spoken when all the encouragement is done, you feel like the reason I came to be one, you feel like happiness when its shared by everyone, you feel like my selfish need to have you to keep, you feel like the compromises I believe.

You are the understanding that calms me through the hectic nights, you are the only company I crave during the lonely nights, you are the lively disposition to my summer days, you are the smile I wear and keep wearing everyday, you are the family I finally came to have, you are the missing piece to my now wholesome lullaby.

With you I found myself to be the woman I always knew I could be, and my bucket of wonder is placed by the side to remind me; how beautiful life is now that you have found me. 

Inhibitive

"You don't know me" she stood up demanding
The vague affection of the last man standing
Little miss understood got him asking
What is that ugly truth she's hiding
She's a mystery, but he's tired of trying
Chasing dead ends and her protectant lying
If she summons me; his thoughts were clouding
To break her walls and the barriers of confining
Will I be present? his thoughts were racing, finding
The line of communication that is always distracting
Wear back your passion, and come out of hiding
This griming despair isn't satisfying
"You don't know me" she kept on demanding
I seek an understanding, behind all that talking and grinding
Inhibitive in her way, there is no landing or crashing
Alone by nature, and there's no point in knowing
She spilled her secrets to someone who wasn't even looking 

Coffee Talks & Solitary Walks

Tell me something nice

I believe it takes a great loss to change a person's perspective about life, I also believe in the kindness of strangers; but thats neither here nor there, I believe in the good in people, even though I know I always get to see it in a time when its too late, but nonetheless I always feel grateful to have found it. I believe that words always come short when there's no action involved. But I also believe that sometimes words can be so powerful in a time when its needed most. I want to be an open book this time; this here isn't an update, its a part of who I am.

I have never witnessed what great love is like; I know I always tend to run from talking about that probably its because I have been around couples to see what loving is like, and I have been around these same couples to see what losing it is really like. People always talk about luck when it comes to love, and if you think about it, it actually makes sense, only those lucky ones find their missing pieces in another person, what it must be like to love and be loved back, without any hesitations or denying of what is felt inside? A hopeless romantic only for the sake of denying its existence but finding myself looking for it wherever I am at. I don't believe in luck, does that goes without saying that I don't believe in love either? Except I do, I do believe in love and I know its an easy come and go for some, and it isn't like so for others. Its clinging on false hope, because I know my fears are always too powerful to overcome, I fear losing myself in the process of opening up because I don't know what's to come after I'm done.

I only see the good in people; with my own naive -looking- eyes, I choose to only see whats good. There's great in everyone you meet, some just hide or overlook it for their own reasons it seems. I often say I feel sad when I come into contact with certain people, because they're not affecting me as I would like them to be. I have learned to surround myself with false companions because they won't add nor extract anything to my life, it is a waste of energy and effort I suppose because I put in nor invest in neither of those, but its also because I know, there's no hurt to come from interacting with them. Some people are easy to get to know, and others are not; these walls that shut people out are the same walls that protect me from them. I say I feel sad because I hardly ever find those that make me think twice, and so when I do, I find that I could get used to having them around, which isn't as great as it sounds, because people come into your life and walk out of it all the time.

Letting go of the past is what I need to work on most, shaking what has been weighing me down all these years, and figuring out how to be okay with whats inside. I believe that things happen for a reason, and they also happen in due time, destiny isn't necessarily always kind but there's beauty in understanding why it is or isn't sometimes. I've been told I'm cold numerous times, and I guess I might come off as an asshole once or twice, but I'm learning to slowly work on that. Most introverts rely on their shell when they communicate with someone for the first time, which is why I believe first impressions are always blind. I learned only recently, that kindness is easy to grant, helping others in times when they need a helping hand, I also learned that to settle for less is a crime against yourself, If I'll be here are only words you're going to utter through the noise, then never bother with saying them at all.

Its the first day of December, the birthdate of a special family member; but thats neither here nor there. Its also the first day of the last month of the year, where resolutions are starting to form, and changing ways becomes more clear. I have started this post with I believe in this and that, and it only serves it well to end it on the same note of facts: I believe that I'm starting to see things differently, I believe that I'm becoming more aware of my strengths and even difficulties, I believe that going after what I want will make me happy, I believe in the magical power of coffee, I believe in persistence and patience is what I need to work on, I believe Leonard Cohen's voice is a road of clam, I believe that people always have more to offer, I believe in making mistakes and learning from them to find the right way, I believe in the person I want to be, and I believe in the joy life has to offer me. 

pieces

"She opened, I entered; I entered and she opened. She stroked the dream out of me, she brought me awake, she stroked me into a waking torment, and, slowly, slowly, as though preparing herself to carry it safely and not spill a single drop, she dragged the dream upward from the base of my belly to the edge of my sex. I was grateful, grateful, I felt such a gratitude, and I clung to my wife, who held me tight, waited for me, and then, after a pause, a mighty pause, I shot it all into her, shot the grief and the terror and the journey into her, and lay on her breast, held like a man and cradled like a child, released." - Baldwin

November Rain

I hold a special place in my heart that only you know about. I promised myself to never write another rhyme about you and I during that time, but the years had rolled on me and November is now all I get to see, time never ceased the aching misery, and yet my heart has gone tender for you again; by the looks of it, the weather is on my side tonight, so I'm going to write for you, the way I always promised not to do.

"I want to forget you" these were the last words you left me with, knowing me this wasn't an easy one to say, yet you still managed to say it anyway. I was bare before you; you made a home for yourself with me, pictured all the years to be and what a beautiful life you had to offer me. How silly of a man to fall in love with a woman who never believed herself enough? You had hope; big enough to hold the both of us, yet my cup was still half empty filled with all my buts and maybes.

"Let me in" these were the words you always whispered whenever I got distanced, you took pieces of me away with you, never once minded to hear nor tune my blues. You knew what the inside of me was shaped like, all the walls I tend to hide behind, in a time where I was still figuring out myself, you stood beside me, undressing and waiting; never once got tired of waiting. I was unaware of my affections for you; I blame the past and the person I met before you, that introduced me to a dark hole I disposed all of my feelings into. But when it came to you, I pushed the only thing that sustained me, even though I always knew you were the one that'll save me.

"I want to love you" these were the first words you said to me, back then when you knew little to nothing about me, it was almost a permission you gave yourself, to tell me all about you, and keep certain to leave me no room to doubt you. You made me laugh like no man did, and never once lied about a thing. You've put in the effort for me to understand, that I was the only woman on your mind. How silly of a woman to doubt a man, because it was the only thing she was taught to do as a child?

The men I met after you, were the exact opposite of you. I went along and played a game, been careless with a few sensitive names; what a sad world this must be, when a woman breaks a man only because she knows she can? This was never my intention, yet it makes no difference to mention, all these men had potential, but you left a void within this heart, please take me back to our start.

When you read this you'll know its you, and I know by now you're already somewhere with someone new, I'm not writing this as a plea to leave... I'm not writing this for any reason it seems; perhaps other than the timing and the weather; that brought with them the memories of you and I together. I hope you're happy with her, and you finally came to trust your feelings for her, I only want what's best for you, and I know myself well enough to know; it's not me that can offer that to you.

Before this is over I want to say; don't try to reach me, I know you will. We've been at this for how many years still? All the words that had been said, promises made but never kept, two lovers always willing to retest against all odds and ends. I only want you to know, I'm writing this as a thank you; for you. You made me believe in love and the worthiness I once lost. And for only that I'm always grateful. I'll let the raindrops wash you tonight; this here is my last goodbye. 

Woman

'bokra ahlaa'

They tell you to remember the memories you made with someone, because that's the one sustainable thing you will have once that person has left your life. I never had to worry about that; though I have managed to make memories whenever I had the chance, and wherever I went, I never had to worry about people passing me by, because I was usually the one pushing them aside and leaving them behind. It's not easy for me to open up, I bottle my feelings somewhere I can't have access to and I pretend they're not even there, and that's been my defence mechanism ever since I was fourteen years old... You'd think time could manage a wounded rhyme? Well I'm still waiting. 

I lost someone recently; someone very dear to my heart, a woman that left an impact on me I wasn't even aware of its depth until she passed away. I'm a carefully closed person; and I say that for a reason, I've already stated that it's difficult for me to talk about my feelings and so when the news had came like it was expected to come, I found myself accepting it without even a second shrug and I even managed to produce a lie: I've already made my peace with it a long time ago. The days that followed were somewhat of a blur, between the sudden moments of it hitting me, to the moments of complete and utter disbandment; how is this even fair? to the moments of me denying it even happened. What I remember most is me not giving myself time to indulge in anything, I sought distractions wherever I found any, it was almost like my defence mechanism was just lurking in the corner, and as soon as I've heard, my disguise was made-up and prepared... You'd think time would wear that ole thing down? Well I'm still waiting. 

A pure heart and a warm spirit; a spirit that truly shines on everyone, a heart that has an ability to love beyond any and everything, There's not a day that passes that I don't miss her; perhaps today more than ever, because I've finally decided to write and indulge further. I have no bad memories with her, and I can't help but think that this was the gift she left me with; and not just me but everyone. A woman that never gave up on love or the good that life has to offer even though she suffered half of hers. A woman that remembered all the birthdays and made sure to make you certain of how much love is surrounding you. A woman that always said that no matter what tomorrow always brings whats best. A woman that   held such strength that I don't think I'll ever know the real amount of. A woman that always encouraged and listened to me even when I had nothing to say. A woman that took a piece of everyone and kept it safe and covered. A woman that no words would ever be enough to hold her weight or the impact she made. A woman that loved and was loved by everyone. A woman that was all and every woman. A woman I want to see myself resembling. A woman that taught me to be an open book isn't a thing to be scared of because of fear of being misunderstood. A woman that lived half her life carrying an illness that failed to slow her down. A woman that lived her life loving people and showing them what warmth and love is truly like. 

A mother and an aunt; but preferred to be a friend above all that. I don't know how I'll come to cope or deal with any of that; since I feel like a huge part is missing, how was she able to fill such a huge gap? I can only remember what she was like, the only woman that made me think twice about the way I chose to live my life, and contemplate a way to bring my truest self out. If love alone could've saved her then she would have never died. But since everything is a test or a testament of some kind; though I know this once, the answers would be hard to find... I'll wait and I'll be waiting every time. 

A lovers dialogue pt.5

Break Ups: #1

'So you all the time' 

Girl: I think we should be friends

Guy: *laughs* Oh is that so?!

Girl: See? this is exactly what I mean when I say you don't take anything I say seriously!

Guy: Yeah, because what you're saying is bullshit

Girl: Why do you have to be 'so you' all the time?

Guy: That 'other me' is unfortunately taken today

Girl: God! you make me so angry sometimes; I can't do this anymore

Guy: You don't have to do a thing, babe. Its not like you ever did

Girl: What does that supposed to mean?!

Guy: Exactly what you think it means

Girl: Why do you always have to be so horrible?

Guy: I just say it how it is

Girl: So I guess this is a massive Piss Off to being friends then

Guy: Why do you want to be friends, if I'm so horrible?

Girl: I don't want to lose you from my life

Guy: Do you actually hear yourself when you talk?!

Girl: I'm being honest with you

Guy: No, you're not. You're being scared

Girl: What if I am?

Guy: That's not my problem anymore

Girl: It never was

Guy: Now you're just being a liar

Girl: Did you ever care, honestly?

Guy: If I didn't, I wouldn't be sitting here right now getting dumped

Girl: I never wanted for it to end this way 

Guy: I know

Girl: Well, isn't there anything you want to say?

Guy: No use in saying anything now

Girl: There never was any use to anything with you

Guy: *laughs* Never stop being 'so you' all the time

Girl: *laughs* I'll keep that in mind for the next time 

Guy: You should

Girl: If theres any chance we can work it out...

Guy: Theres nothing to work out, its over

Girl: *giggles* I thought I was the one doing the break up 

Guy: Oh right! well, continue, its not you its me, coming up next?

Girl: Stop stealing my lines!

Guy: But I'm so horrible, how can I not?

Girl: *laughs* I guess I should wrap this up before the table turn again 

Guy: Yeah you really should

Girl: Well, good luck and have a great life, asshole 

Guy: *laughs* Cheers

-The end- 

Forget Me

Forget me, for my sake, it was all a mistake. My words tend to shake, and yours had always failed to take shape. Forgive me, I can't pretend; to be a friend. What a cunning game you've led, that's finally coming to end.

You've lied with me once before; that was what I had always feared most; you've never asked about the heat of this soul when it was laying right before yours, never asked about the past or why it distanced me from all of those I came to pass, never asked about the me I was preparing for you to meet, never asked about the real me, the one I was waiting for you to see, never asked me any of the questions that would require of me to let you in. You've never asked a thing. 

It's over; before it even begins. That's how it usually tends to end; all in the name of self defence. Like a dark cloud you came to me, expecting to fix what was wrong within me, opened your wounds a little for me to see, and to give away a bit of my mystery, I was conscious of myself because I knew; a man in pain is unreliable and strange, a dangerous game for me to play.

A closed cabinet; like you'd say, uncomfortable with living this way; but to get hurt would be the one thing I can't accept or take. A sad girl will soak you in, to open up; you'd have to bear and hold her in, till she finally chooses to give in. A dangerous game you'd take-in. 

Forget me, and I say, before I come to change my way, to leave another mistake that is yesterday.  

pieces

"Your body like a searchlight, my poverty revealed. I would like to try your charity, until you cry: Now you must try my greed. And everything depends upon how near you sleep to me. Take this longing from my tongue, all the lonely things my hands have done. Let me see your beauty broken down, like you would do for the one you love." - LC

Somersault

And is that why they call me a sullen girl?

The way we deal with grief, defines who we are. When people find themselves struggling they tend to look for a comforting place to lay their troubles, to be welcomed with warmth and acceptance, and embraced in all willingness and with no signs of constraint. A time when what you truly need is to be read, to have someone beside you to listen to you while you confess. Here's a little segment I call: never again. 

Feeling a need for a certain thing, can be quite overpowering; to an extend where, one might say they have gone out of character to hold and obtain that thing. My mother had always been a strong figure, ever since I could remember, she taught me that the only way to go further in life is to develop a tough shell; don't lose your tears to just about anyone or anything and so I guess I grew up, mimicking what I was brought up and ought to be. A little lesson I call: not me. 

Someone once told me that, when they read the pieces I write, they feel that as if I'm cheating myself for the way I get rid of feelings and how I choose to implicate them through writings. To all it's own, sometimes verbalising can take it's toll, and in all honesty I have always had an old, odd and an irreplaceable love affair with letters in typing! If someone takes the time to read what you have to write, then why bother with saying a thing after that? A little lesson I call: chicken and egg. 

The state of being in oblivion, is without a doubt, a state I foremost cherish, however I'm not talking about unnecessary supplements when I say that (Hi, mum) no, I mean the want to get away, and escape the people and their hectic atmosphere, when you can't seem to fit in there. A fear of being forgotten is almost crippling, especially when that fear is associated with a person who tends to push when it says pull. If there was anything I would ever regret, it would be the abandoning and losing of those that matter most. The casually cruel way I always tend to go. A little lesson I call: trust issues (Bye, drake)

Everybody wants something, those that claim they don't; simply haven't figured out what it is they want, yet. I'm a liar; I choose not to tell the truth, and that is for one reason only; a truth would lead to more questions, and questions demand answers; answers that I'm not willing to give, maybe not yet. maybe not ever. Whatever it is that I'm shutting down, would probably remain that way for awhile. Indulgence was never a habit of mine; and perhaps thats a lie, however in order to properly do it, I'd have to find a way to compromise. A little lesson I am yet to understand. 

Dove Gray

Maybe all we'll ever get to have are the memories of the time we've spent together; it's been so long since we went back to that place, and perhaps that's good, you've never been the sentimental kind and my memory tend to fail me most of the time. Maybe these memories are enough of an indicator that my feelings for you were somewhat true, but what good would that do, when a distance is the only thing you've ever asked of me to do? Maybe you'll be lucky and you'll find someone new, who'll treat you the way I was always afraid to do. And maybe, just maybe you'll remember me when I said: I hope a day would come when you'll forget we've ever met.

I talk about luck when I talk about you; only because I hope your luck isn't anywhere near through, I'm not a lucky man and that I know for sure, yet I can't help but think that a silly thing like luck had led me to you, or maybe not; perhaps a coincidence is more true when I recall the way I've met you. It's funny how, after all we've been through, I still manage to talk about hope, like I haven't ran out of it too. I talk about hope but I see a different image pushing through, yet my mind still finds a way to reach you. I'm not a lucky man and you know that's true, I'd rather stand alone on a fading hope that i'll forget you.

You told me about your fears when you felt safe enough to share them with me, and I don't think I'll ever know, how much it took of you to do so. Not an easy one to read; and at first, I wished you would mislead, a tease like me, that was too easy to please. You told me about your dreams; though you've kept a few, yet a vivid image of a family by a beach is too strong to remove. You told me about yourself; but only a little, for me to understand that trust wasn't a thing you'd ever grant. As I recall how you were, and who you were, to me; all I seem to vaguely sense and see, is a fragment of a mystery.

I wonder if tonight you'll think of me, and if the mood is right; you'll decide to write for me. To be strangers is what I fear to be, but perhaps its too late for me. I'm not the one, you should be making an enemy, but if I've hurt you once; then let your walls break me. I'm not good at saying much, when its time to say enough, and so I fear a day would come, when my weighted words won't be enough.

Soft Skin

Behind the walls of shared deceit; where both their fantasies came to meet, he asked not to speak for lustful words would often mislead; a hope that he might someday decide to lead. She kissed his cheek and with no retreat, fell into a lie, she no longer sought to keep.

"You're beautiful" he breathed, against her soft skin he found an ease, he traced her figure, inhaled then exhaled the scent that glued to her skin deep, took a moment, to stop and tease; or perhaps a moment to appreciate the rare beauty that was hard to leave.

Obscure in her words, she held him close to prevent the doubt that often had him enclosed; unaware of where her mind goes, and his assumptions always made it worse, a doubt was to be in clover from fear of ever getting closer.

She gave him a part of her; a part that was abused by another, the same part he admired, another man had desired, the same part he caressed and touched down the same route another man had forced his way in to reach its bloom, the part of her that she was told beautiful, the same part both men had told her was beautiful.

To learn to love, a woman like her, who never learned that she had a thing to offer, beneath a soft skin that was her delicate cover, to learn to appreciate her true colour when its finally bared and discovered, to learn to look for the eyes that speak behind the disguise, to learn to seek then comfort the soul that was once left tattered and torn.

Give her your time when she asks for it, be patient, willingly inclined to read between the lines of who she is, give her a chance to see that there's much more to her than what he made her perceive, and finally get her to embrace that her beauty isn't a source of disgrace.

Inside their make-believe, a sentimental state in which they craved and longed to stay, a daydream they both shared, lost within the vague blissful state it made, clinging to what has come to pass, and no questions were asked, he traced her thighs with his fingers, brushing over the soft skin that made it easy to linger, she closed her eyes and inhaled the deep desire he exhaled, knowing fully what awaits her in the remains of this escape. 

Restless Sleep

There's not much time left
Yet you'll find me waiting
And I've cried in distress
Broke into an awakening
I can't seem to make sense
Of what to come and go
I need more this time than:
'That's just the way it goes'

I don't think of you as much
I try not to do
I've always hid behind these rocks
And walls that shut me through
You're not here with me
And I can't seem to reach you
These words are bond to choke me;
A shaken prayer, promise, to mislead you

Take the memories and leave the past
Filled with the mistakes of a missed chance
Dwell on sadness and painful times
Of hospital visits, surgical cuts and lines
I fail to reminisce even when I'm alone
My memories come to miss
By a sight of you alone.
I won't forget what you were like before
But I can't seem to remember you anymore

There's not much left to say
All I'm left with is to wait
Silence and hope decay
And all feelings left today
Still I can't seem to find a way
To end the restless sleep today
So I'll start again tomorrow
I'll get rid of you
Yet you'll find a way to follow

The Gift

"You must be brave enough to look deeper into a man to understand the nature of his heart" An old soothsayer once told me; though I'm not one to believe in that and the future always seemed too far to grasp still somehow behind all the wrinkles and lines that stretched and aligned that woman's face; giving it a distinct and unique shape, her hazel eyes that hint a pain of all the faces she proclaimed to have helped gain, I found myself drawn more into her lies; voluntarily I sat down outpouring my soul into her hand.

"You're a resister, my darling" She said as she touched and traced the lines on my palm; with her eyes shut, she caressed my hand, I looked at her face trying to read the expressions it was starting to make, but I came out with nothing, like a well adjusted routine, she sighed then slowly moved her hand to my wrist, gently stroking as she tried to ease me out of my resist. "Not a believer as well" she whispered almost to herself, with a slight hint to condescend, she kept on stroking my wrist then moving back to my palm, with regularity that was starting to make me calm, but before I could get used to it, she stopped then let my hand free. I looked at her, she was looking at me; both unaware of what's in between, I leaned in to hear what she had seen.

"You have a gift, my darling, but you seem to have forgotten. Theres a dwelling sadness that lingers within you; a bundle you have collected then carried everywhere you've moved. A past that managed to make and keep you blue because of consequences that weren't due. A young girl that looks a lot like you, crying over the night she had been forced to bloom; a wrong direction that was taken, made you lose faith in all that is you should take-in. No wonder you resist, my darling... how can you believe in anything, after what you have witnessed?"

I shook my head, trying to prevent the tears from rolling down, my hands were trembling and it seemed as if my entire body was. She fixated her eyes upon me; without giving away a readable expression, I inhaled what seemed to be the final-few chunks of air and told her to carry on.

"You have a gift, my darling, but you choose not to embrace it. Going through your life everyday with a disguise you have made, what a pity; for it is possible to come across it, but you would rather alter the way for your heart to deny it then cast it away. Love is running thick inside of you, but before you let it show, you must be able to let a man near you, to understand and know you, to embrace and hold you, to like then love you,  before you allow him to enter you. You can't refuse it any longer, my darling, you have grown stronger, learn to forgive the misbehaves of others and let yourself spare a chance for another."

She held her hand out to me, and I took it in, gently stroking my sweaty palm to ease my shakiness, she gave a warm smile, I nodded and told her to carry on.

"You have a gift, my darling, and I know you can feel it, unhappy; you lead a life filled with weariness, you've gotten accustomed to a game that managed to relieve the temporary loneliness, still somehow couldn't manage to cease the emptiness. Everything felt above the surface; no true meaning behind all the words that'd been said. It's time to give up the act my darling, and to undress the disguise that's been hiding the mess. You must be willing to indulge in yourself before you attempt to open up.

You have a gift, my darling, and its levitating more now, allow yourself to feel what you have resisted for so long, the people that care will stay and those that don't are much easier to wash away. Don't let your sadness swallow you. Give in to the river that floods within you. Don't resist the gift, my darling... For the gift is you." 

pieces

 "I wanted to be alone in quite an unusual, new way. The very opposite of what you are thinking: namely without myself." - Pirandello  

Autumn Leaves

He told me once that I remind him of autumn leaves; the way they fall carelessly in the street to add a shade and colour to it only to be taken away by the wind the next day. I've stayed too long a thought that crossed my mind as soon as those words came out of his mouth. He'll never know how difficult it was to throw it all away and leave, scattering pieces of the remains of what used to be, but I've made up my mind a long time ago; before I've met him, I made a promise to follow this path, the only one I can trust to never last.

Ever since I was a little girl, I had a habit of running away, I used to pretend that I was dead; for hours I would just lay on the ground and watch life pass me by, with one eye open, I would see the birds above hovering over me, my mother in the kitchen cooking for my brother and me, my brother playing football by the sidewalk of an empty street, An odd comforting feeling would surround me; almost like a cloth covering me, I knew that if I lay here peacefully nothing could ever touch or harm me; and its a feeling I never got over.. even till this day.

"I know nothing about you" He murmured to me the first night we shared together, lying in his bed with my head against his chest, I said nothing as he stroked my hair and whispered the same words again, "Tell me anything" he retreated after a few minutes of blissful silence, I sat up with my back facing him, it didn't take long before I felt his cool breath against my bare shoulders, his fingers brushing my hair away, he gave me a tender kiss on the back of my neck as if to assure me that all the secrets that are kept away are saved with him, I turned around and looked into his eyes; these eyes, that burned with both passion and curiosity that still terrify me, I kissed him; I kissed him with a desire that craved a wait, that longed for an understanding beyond the wait; a wait for me, a wait for something bigger I believed I was beginning to see.

I remember the first time I felt it, he was away and I found myself alone in his apartment, surrounded by his presence everywhere, but he wasn't with me; his clothes from the night before laid lifelessly on the floor, his coffee mug still unwashed by the counter, the side of the bed where he slept with me was empty, and I couldn't stand it, my heart was hardly beating and I felt sick; sick of how much I needed him, sick of how much I craved him, sick of the thought of how unbearable my life seemed without him.. I can't have that a thought had crossed my mind instantly I belong to no one another thought crashed immediately.. With all the senses I could grasp in that moment, the only option was to leave, but as I sat there on his bed, a picture of him clouded my head and made my heart see that for the first time I was exactly where I need to be.

"Don't forget me.." I whispered into his ear during that one cold night; when its most cold, the weather is hunting, seeking the lovers, begging them to get closer to each other, to feel the warmth of one another, to remind them of how lonely it could be to have no one with you when the cold and dark precede. He held me tighter to him; too tight, like the words that were just uttered carried a hidden message he was too afraid of getting, "remember me.. always like this" I sat up to face him, I placed my hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat that moved fast and in an irregular speed, his breathing got heavy but his lips didn't move, tears were starting to form and I knew he knew what was coming, he feared it just as much as I did but he knew it was coming, I leaned to kiss him where my hand had just been and while I was preparing to leave I uttered the only words I could speak: "Don't forget, you were the first to ever make me feel like this"

Somewhere inside of me that little girl is still trapped, I can't seem to shake her past or the way it follows me in my lonely path; I desire so completely without a bone in my body to ever deceive me, and then I stop as if I had never started... So I'll lay on the ground tonight, with one eye open as autumn leaves starts falling.  

A lovers dialogue pt.4

First Timers/First Impressions 

'Something painful, something real'

Guy: Hey...

Girl: Hi

Guy: I'm sorry, you know, I saw you from across the room and I just had to come and say something

Girl: 'Hey' was the best you could come up with?

Guy: Under the circumstances... yeah.. wait let me rephrase that; what brings you here today?

Girl: Boredom mostly.. 

Guy: I find that hard to believe.. a beautiful woman like yourself with nothing to do on a Saturday night

Girl: Oh? but I am doing something; having this swell conversation with a total stranger 

Guy: Isn't that how people usually meet?

Girl: So this is a meeting now? I thought this was just a pick-up! 

Guy: Wow... I don't know what gave you that impression..?

Girl: Seriously now?! 

Guy: Well somebody's in a bad mood..

Girl: Now we're passed the "meeting" phase and onto the "assuming to know one another" phase?

Guy: Damn you're quite difficult..

Girl: If you're going to keep making judgements, try to intrigue me at least

Guy: Are you always this challenging to talk to, or did I catch you in a bad time?

Girl: You think this is challenging? 

Guy: Hostile almost..

Girl: *laughs* Well if you can't stand the heat, you can leave

Guy: You're really enjoying this, aren't you?

Girl: I can do without 

Guy: I gotta say... you're a real pain..

Girl: As opposed to a "fake" one?

Guy: Are you deliberately this enigmatic?

Girl: Are you deliberately this nosey? 

Guy: When I want to get to know someone.. yes I am.

Girl: An advice for the future; next time you want to "get to know" someone stop assuming to know them and actually get to know them

Guy: If they're not giving me much to work with, then assuming is all I've got going for me

Girl: Wrong, this whole notion is wrong 

Guy: Why don't you correct me then?

Girl: I'm not your little experiment 

Guy: Ouch! there you go again with that pain

Girl: Reality pains.. 

Guy: You're pretty real I must say..

Girl: Aren't we all for the most part? 

Guy: I would assume so.. yeah *winks*

Girl: Charming man

Guy: Sarcastic woman

Girl: Thats a way to attract a lady, aye?! 

Guy: *laughs* Oh I know I got no shot at this, I properly missed my chance with that first Hey 

Girl: It's all about that confidence 

Guy: Honestly answer me this; how is a man supposed to approach you? I'm asking for a friend..

Girl: In that case, that friend should be the one asking me the question 

Guy: Wonderful... I got nothing

Girl: You got something.. 

Guy: Something real?

Girl: And painful

-The end- 

The Way

Like a favorite book you try to memorize it's lines or an old picture you almost failed to recognize, like the sweet and sour taste of lies and how they intersect instead of collide, like a love that grows beyond the existence of  a life; an appreciation that lasts, like finding a remedy between these hellos and goodbyes, like the perfect ride with no destination in mind, like the first kiss followed by an awkward pause then a smile, like the way he sees his future when he looks into her eyes, like the way she speaks to him with no disguise, like a notion that is mystified, like old friends reunite, like letting go of the past, like the birthmark above her thighs, like a bad nursery rhyme, like a midnight call when no ones' around, like the words spoken when they're no longer inclined, like a father holding a newly born child, like saying I love you for the first time, like holding hands and stealing glance, like family photos that shows a different side, like believing in everything's alright, like a morning text that makes a day worth while, like being there when he needs you around, like a trust that is built over time, like staying up late clutching the final pages, like losing yourself in a journey you've voluntarily taken, like making the choice to move on alone, like finding a comfort away from home, like ending all those I'm not sure, like a mother's tales and childhood stories, like hard work rewarded, like first impressions and second chances, like affection that isn't demanded, like a song that silence an aching heart, like a song that was the start, like an escape to someplace far, like realising the truth within a lie, like seeing yourself through his eyes, like the way we interact everyday, hoping for a change in any way. 

Mango

There's always a part of me behind everything I write, I have to be engrossed in an idea or a fantasy that I try to capture somehow and keep around for awhile, although they are a bit smudged and perhaps that's only a slight indicator of the kind of person I am, its always been and its still is hard to open up and say yes to those difficult conversations I so long to have.. so until I can gather up the courage and find the most convenient perfect time I'll have to settle for these posts with an update tagged to its side.

Few people come in to your life unannounced, those are the people that are capable of making a difference in your life more than others, they shake things up, they excite and intrigue you, and because they come in unannounced they usually leave the same way. Its the idea of being something for someone hoping that this someone would be the right one and I've gambled with this idea before, though I've never struck, chances are I've always left way too soon, but perhaps its because for someone like me, its always been about being something for someone but only for a bit.

My desire is to collect memories; more and more ever since I came to the realisation that nothing will ever be the same again. Family that won't feel the same again; if there's one thing I fear most is knowing when it will end, when will be the last time to spend with someone, and yet knowing that won't change a thing because all I have is whats in between which is always insignificant. I've always been restless when it came to giving time some more time I know that time is properly the only sufficient thing you can offer someone because it's not yours to give nor offer in the first place, but for someone like me, time seemed to harden things by changing the way they appear to be.

There's beauty in transparency and vulnerability, I've always felt a slight pinch towards women that possess these two qualities, they have this incredible passion towards life and people that is both terrifying and admirable... its like falling down from a cliff but choosing to face down rather than face up, because you want to see/feel everything instead of ignore/pretend until you finally reach the end. My close friend has this big heart that feels everything; if its love or hate or even bitterness its there and felt with every ounce, I wish she would never lose that intensity, I wish life nor time would ever harden her, and I can only hope that one day I'll get to feel in that exact way.

Happiness is illusive; especially the one we associate with someone else. I've always wondered if my own happiness depended on the people I'm with, and perhaps wondering if it is or isn't would mean its not exactly happiness. I've taught myself from an early age to never place my happiness where it don't belong and better yet on things that I know won't last, and somehow I grew up to feel like I don't belong anywhere nor does anything ever really lasts.

I want to be a stranger to everyone. That's always been my state of mind. There are parts to show and parts to hide, a little to write about and much less to talk about... I guess I want the one who will want to discover these parts both shown and hidden and would make the time to stick around even after time managed to harden me some more somehow. And this was just an update with a bit of indulgence inside. Good night. 

pieces

"Every mouth you've ever kissed was just practice, all the bodies you've ever undressed and ploughed in to were preparing you for me. I don't mind tasting them in the memory of your mouth; they were a long hall way, a door half open, a single suit case still on the conveyor belt.. was it a long journey? did it take you long to find me? You're here now, welcome home." - Shire

New Ties

Life is tough but once and awhile 

a crack is made for those who 

try

I've given birth to Nora when I was twenty four; a little bump along the way, a silly drunken night, one Christmas holiday; all the different ways my mother explained how wrong it would be to have this child that wasn't even alive to witness such blind hate twisted to be justified. Nora's dad flee as soon as the word came out and I would have never expected anything from a man who values his pain over everything ; and because of it refuses to stand. I left home as soon as I felt the walls creep in, a family tie that shredded over everything I once believed in. My father did nothing but send me away with money; telling me 'It'll be okay honey.' I'll never forget the looks or the faces, of my family regretting the choices I was making, 'You've disgraced us.', 'How can you not see? how wrong this is for everyone in this family!' and with only that I left;  hearing these final words come out of my mother's chest.

I've made a living working as a waitress in a small town diner that wasn't at all that sophisticated, An old woman opened her home for me and gave me a job to support me and my family. I could never thank you enough for what you did; you've given me everything I thought I would forever miss. 'Don't cry; my sweet child... you have every reason in you to fight.' Every time I felt like I should just give in, her words would guide me to the light within. My mother; my chosen loving mother, I would never forget; how you took me in when the world rejected in disrespect. How you would come in every night tuck my little baby to bed and kiss her a goodnight. How you would sing that beautiful lullaby that only with it she sleeps peacefully every night. And as you lay on the ground; I'm forever bond to you... my chosen mother, I will forever love you.

I've moved to a new apartment when Nora turned three; a little place that felt cosy and was exactly what we need. I brought Nora to where I work everyday; I've never seen her smile so bright, I've never seen my daughter have as much as fun as she had. Everyone became a family; a group of strangers that gave me something, my own family had contempt it. A group of strangers that became more; much more, than anything I could've ever hoped for. I'm happy; I'm so happy, as I hold my daughter with me, in a place where love is the one thing I'm sure I'll never run out of.

Nora will grow up soon, and I will be waiting for the days where she would finally bloom and understand that the world isn't as kind as she might think, that the fairytales don't just exists, that the pain in heartache can't be cured with anything, that the love she'll feel might sometimes be missed; or wasted on someone who doesn't deserve it, that the only way for her to be is to feel everything else around her fearlessly; that it might be hard to show her soft side, and its even harder to trust that side with any man. If only I could have all the time in the world, to teach you all the things I was never taught, If only I could keep your innocence alive I'll never let you lose that shine in your eyes, If only I could be there in your deepest most secret moments of despair; If only I could be there I'll hold you in my arms, always... the same way I'm doing tonight.

Nora is sleeping in her bed; finally resting her little head, I've checked to see if she would blink she does this habit whenever I sing. Nora is almost four years old; how the time passes so fast, I'll never know... My little princess; my everything, no one would ever harm you as long as I shall live. 

reflecting innocence pt.3

I've pushed and lost him once before; when I was still desperate for more, I made sure not to feel his presence again, but like the devil; a lonely, fleeing thought of him would make me sin. I want him. I want him. My mind was consumed, not a single day had passed without him in my room. I've cried for him; when he was still with me and I've cried even more when I felt him, sink within me. My tears couldn't save me, neither would his words; for they would mean nothing because they've always left me clinging, craving more. I hate him. I hate him. And forevermore I was falling in love with a man and his broken soul.

I can't write for you the way I used to do; I can't give you hints about what you should or shouldn't do. I've turned a new page and it hurts me too; to think about the empty spaces that could've been filled with you. Trust me when I say I had no intention for it to end this way; but trust is often blind and you never had the courage to stay. My life was always hard, and ever since I was a child;  I've had a difficult time believing that anything could ever last. I still care and even as I leave; I'll hope that happiness finds you, I hope you'll find what you need.

I want to go where the wind might take me; disappear without a trace with no one with me. I've tried and I've played all this time; and finally I've found the refuge that had always been mine. In many years time we'll meet again; it would take you a few seconds to place me in, I would be different and hopefully you would too and in our differences, we'll find that theres something new... If so, don't hesitate or think twice; my heart had always been yours, and no man would ever come close. 

True Bug

When I was six years old my mother used to play this trick on me, whenever she wanted me to do something I didn't want to do, she would start counting to ten; the reason behind this was that I was terrified of her tickling, so every time she would want something from me all she would do is start counting and come over to where I'm sitting, reaching out, and I will be completely under her power. It's pretty intense given the fact I was only six and my mother knew how to manipulate me. Now however I look back at it and I can finally understand why she did it; why she would torture such a helpless child, you see, my mother always had her own unique way of doing things, she never really wanted to get anything out of me except perhaps a little laughter she knew she was the reason behind. 

They say daughters grow up to show a bit of similarities with their mothers; you would go about your life kicking and screaming rejecting that statement, until finally realising your mother did the exact same thing when she heard that exact same statement. I don't think that's necessarily a given but when you're in a place where you don't feel as assured anymore you ought to look to the one person who properly knows nothing to little about who you are right now but more than nothing about who you were at a certain point of time. 

I was always a private person and perhaps I took after my father than my mother in that aspect; I kept a diary just like my dad and tried to document all the thoughts I used to have until one day I stopped and started writing stories about a different me in a different time; I think that was the starting point of my love affair with escapism! I was (and still) is a seeker of something else, never pleased or satisfied I took writing as a way to fill an overgrowing gap. Once I started I knew there was no going back; so I took refuge in writing about all the things I wish I had, knowing deep down I'll never actually get to have.

I run away because it's always been easier this way, I push everyone away and I regret it as soon as I've done it. However I always find a way to justify my mean because people leave and that's just the way it'll be, its better to be quick at leaving than have someone leaving me. A "safe bubble" is how my friend sees me, a bubble I had gotten so used to that is no longer saving me. I don't write about myself and I don't want you to; I'm not a character for your poem. I'm not an idea of a woman. I'm not an option nor a choice. And if the truth should finally come out; I won't be anywhere near to find out.

When I was six years old my mother used to play this trick on me. Now that I've gotten older I've realised, everyone plays a trick of some sort, but unlike my mother; no one really has good intentions in store.  

I Miss You

I miss you and this feeling I can't shake, it seems all I do is run from you and leave all that I should take. You've given me nothing, and in return I did the same, and here we are stuck in this emptiness we can't name. Nothing but everything, left confused in between, who am I to be anything when the game no longer entertains?

I miss you and I know this doesn't change much, but I'll keep writing it every time hoping for a change in luck. Invest in me and take all that you can take and know that never once have I thought it to be a mistake. I'm here now and I fear its not enough... but I'm here now, I'm ready to open up.

I miss you and I keep recollecting your words for it seems to be the only constant need you've ever showed. I wish you'd stay open for more, I wish you'd stay till you're ready for something more. I wish this time you'd read me and know that I'm not as confused as before.

I miss you and one thing I ask of you
Don't keep me waiting; my only plea for you.
 

Alienate

I'm detached again, disconnected, I can't seem to find a way to bring back an old pretend overused and abused habit. Surrounded by people in a dark crowded room, everyone conversing about nothing; that's all there is to it... they're all nothing, this means nothing to me, absolutely nothing. The same absurd thoughts of alienation got a hold of me, I can't no longer act... I'm too tired, weary and restless, acting has become a drag; that's all there is to it... dragging myself everyday to be something... just anything.

They'll almost always immediately ask you about pain; what experiences have you had in your life that would justify that look in your eyes, they'll expect you to give a reason; a solid, valid reason or else they'll disapprove and reject you almost always immediately. I've never had a reason and I wish I did; maybe only then would I be fine with whatever it is that's stopping me from being fine. To some sadness is a way of life; sadness is what being fine is like. And those who ask can never understand what it's like to have this constant war in your mind.

I can't give him anything I haven't given already to someone else, perhaps it was him whom I should have waited for, perhaps it was him who was capable of opening me up for more, perhaps I was his in a different story that'll never be told.

I'm detached again, disconnected, the room is filling in and I'm by the side pretending, everything fades then comes back again, without a taste or thrill of suspense and I'm just another finally reaching the end. 

Strangers

Strangers and even though
I write these words for you to know
I'll leave a scar where it hurts the most
And blame the lies you've never told
Suffering I'll try it too
I'll even name it after you
All of this I'll do and more
To keep these memories forever sore

Strangers and let's pretend
To keep a distance till the end
But when you're far enough to think
And a thought of me is lurking in
Please, I beg of you to let me in
And find a place for me to sink
Even though I won't attempt;
I'll block you out in self defence
But I remind you to not forget
I only push what's hard to neglect

Strangers and nothing more?

Strange to know we'll never know

If I could say what's on my mind

'I want you here all the time'

But since this no longer a design
My mind will change a second time
And I don't know how else to go
Still; I'd hate for you to let me go

Strangers but don't say it yet
Stranger; this I'll confess
A place for you
My heart has kept
But I'd be lying when I say
I'll be waiting for you someday. 

Never

Never fall in love with writers; they'll never love you back. A path that is untracked; till it's discovered and crossed by. A mystery that intrigues; till it reveals its means. A poem that is written for someone else's needs. A story to be finished; only to be able to breathe. Everything you are is a means to an end it seems. 

Never fall in love with writers; they are the ones you can never satisfy. Their words would mean everything to you; but these words are only written because they'll never say it to you. Their actions are false and every little thing they do, means absolutely nothing because they'll regret it and deny it to be true. Their touch will often break you; on purpose it seems. Everything you are is a part of a sick scheme. 

Never fall in love with writers; they'll love you more in words. A character that "only bleeds" with "weak knees" and needs a "helping hand to see" A character to be "saved" and it's only refuge is to "escape" A character that is a "mistake" still an opportunity they must take. Everything you are is a desire to a different taste.  

Never fall in love with writers; their only thrill is to seek pain. Lure you in with words they've designed for this game, give and only take when its not theirs to claim. Promises they'll make and wait for the right time for it to break. And remorse will never show until its just too late. Everything they are is a sad and broken state; what's the point of sadness anyway if it never stayed? 

Never fall in love with writers; pray you'll never do. They'll make you long for something that's never coming true.

Contact

"I don't like this game anymore." He said as he shifted his weight to face the opposite direction, he thought about walking towards the door, leaving her behind for good, and the many times this thought had crossed his mind; it never seemed more ridiculous than now.

"Please don't treat me this way." Her plea came as predictable to him as his thought of leaving, he had heard it all before; this, all of this... nothing is exciting, nothing is new. nothing at all.
She reached her hand out to touch his shoulder, only the tip of her fingers brushing onto his shirt in their always shaky-hesitated manner. He couldn't deny the electric shock that ran through him as he felt a small portion of her flesh coming into contact with his, he was never able to deny the way she could make him feel, he was always attracted to her, even now as he's seated beside her in a bed he shared with many other women; women that surpassed her in ways he was always made aware of, women that were fixed up to be compatible, women of exotic natures, women of intensive and extensive beauty, women of brains and women who were just plain easy, still as these strange faces clouded his mind begging him to remember a different, a much better time, he couldn't deny the fact that none of these other women ever came close to her. None of them.

"You can never hurt me." She spoke in her quite assertive voice, slowly moving the palm of her hand to his neck and locking him in. He closed his eyes and exhaled, she was now sitting on her knees, behind him on the bed, reaching out with her other hand and interlocking her fingers. You can't hurt me if I hurt you first her thoughts seemed to be saying.

"You don't know me very well." He spoke in his usual weary voice, which she predicted he would have adopted by now, he thought that being concerned for her, saved her a great deal of troubling, but little did he knew that she wanted the troubles just as much as she wanted him. I don't want the good if I can't have the bad and the ugly as well. Her thoughts spoke clearly to her.

"I know you well enough."

"You think you do..."
"I know I do."

"No, you don't. I'm not right for you."
"Who said I wanted right?"

"I'm wrong for you. I'll always be wrong for you."
"I don't care."

"One day you will."
"That day isn't today."

As she spoke her last words she released him, he opened his eyes and sighed heavily, everything surrounding him seemed heavy; the air, the room, the bed, the floor. Everything seemed unbearable, everything seemed tiring, everything seemed impossible. And it was to him. It always was.

The thought of leaving her was unbearable, the thought of being with her was tiring and the thought of loving her was impossible.

He turned around to face her, to mouth the words of a well practiced farewell... looking into her eyes, feeling the air moving around them, he was silent, she was silent and only silence was spoken.

At seventeen

I've learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
Women with nothing to lose;
That accept and obey all the rules
Women with nothing to give;
But perfect bodies polished and trimmed
Women who swore to love the only one
And still desire a different one
Women that don't speak or raise their voice
Sitting in silence throughout the noise.

I've learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
Girls growing up to seek and please
Older men who crave all that is they see
Girls that learn that happiness is achieved
When a man is satisfied beneath the sheets
Girls who trained themselves to speak of nothing
But compliments and praise and shallow words like these.

I've learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
Women that raise their girls not to see
The evil to come with every lie a man speaks
Women that raise their girls to be
The perfect image taken out of a man's fantasy
Women that raise their girls to believe
They are worth nothing
Until a man claims them;
They'll no longer be.

I've learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
The more you're loved, the unhappier you'll be
The more you're loved, the lonelier you'll feel
No one will know, no one will believe
All beauty queens are broken
By the time they're seventeen. 

Fragments

Is it "irony" that Price Tag by Jessie J

played in every single clothing store

I went into?

I was never one of those people to believe in making resolutions, I mean ever since I've made one to become a vegetarian back in the day (I was seventeen) and I've actually survived an entire period of three weeks! I was excruciated. No more. Just say no. Or yes. Whatever. I feel like when you set a time to achieve a particular goal you're only setting yourself up for failure, especially when it's not a goal but a number of goals. People tend to go crazy with the time to change the old habits routine. 

Change isn't always desirable. That is a fact. Change more than often brings negative results. Change can also be useful in letting you figure out exactly where you stand and where you would like to be standing. Change isn't always about you, though. No, sometimes change is for someone else. And that's the worst kind of change. I have been struggling with this idea for awhile now, did I really change or am I only just now beginning to understand my nature better? I think that's a question we should all ask ourselves every once and awhile. I've found a unique sense of comfort in the answer. 

Love is always tricky for me to discuss, only because I don't know it to discuss it. I believe that lust and attraction are powerful enough in deceiving the hopefuls into believing in forever. Nothing lasts forever. That's not an excuse. That's a fact. We don't start something knowing that when it ends it would hurt, we start something because we know that the period between the start and the finish would be worth it. Think about all the memories that would stand the course of time. Isn't that what life is all about? People come and go, that's guaranteed. One thing they can't take away with them is the memories. Ask yourself; would you rather miss out, or miss them eventually? I've found a unique sense of comfort in the answer. 

Life isn't about defining yourself, it's about putting yourself in experiences that would help define you. We all feel lost and confused more often than we should or would like to, and that's okay. Nothing is simple. Life isn't a test you pass or fail. We don't have to have all the answers, and I'm sure having all the answers wouldn't make things any simpler. I'd like to think of life as fragments; of lost family albums, of an old house I once grew up in and is now nothing more than a building, of old lovers even though the word love was always reserved, of old mates and childhood friends that are becoming strangers everyday, of favourite books and favourite bands that made me believe I was cool, of the first time I've cut my hair and the many times I've regretted it, of the teacher that encouraged me and made me discover I could write, of all the memories of the past even the ones I wish would pass, of all the memories of the present and the ones to come after that. The meaning of life is comfort. Finding a unique sense of comfort in everything. 

Notion

If only you knew how difficult it is for me to think about you, you won’t be treating me this way. I know we’re not meant to be, a girl like you would never settle for me. I don’t mean to bash you, please don’t be offended, I’m only stating a fact this world has set centuries ago. Can you indulge me for a bit? I’m not asking for much, or perhaps I am; why should you give me your time in the first place? I know and I’m sorry.

From the first day I’ve met you I knew there was something about you that was different, how cliché of me to say that right? What is a guaranteed way to get a woman’s attention? Tell her she’s different from all the others. Every woman wants to feel special but you never did and that was different.

I approached you and started a conversation that I was not at all interested in I can’t even remember what I said to you but what I do remember is your eyes that kept hovering the place and the space surrounding us, not once did you look at me. ‘Maybe it is a trick?’ my selfish mind was offended, ‘Is she playing hard to get?’ my selfish heart was wounded. ‘I give up’ I lied to myself, and we went separate ways.

I kept thinking about you when I knew absolutely nothing about you. It first began with a simple idea in my mind to ease my aching heart; did I mention before that I was selfish? I made you up in my mind; I gave you a childhood that left you neglected that way it won’t be hard to love you. I gave you teenage years that left you troubled and angry that way it would be my duty to save you. I gave you a haunting past that you never spoke of that way you would remain forever a mystery. I gave you everything that I could ever possibly give someone... and what can you actually give someone? Absolutely nothing.

‘This is not right’ it was never right. My mind was fighting to keep me sane, to remind me that the girl didn’t exists that it was my lonely heart looking for a mean to keep me in the dark. But I couldn’t stop, ‘You’re in my head’ and you were; it was your face, it was those eyes that ruined me. It was your fault and it will always be.

‘Where are you now?’ I wonder if you still visit. Maybe you do but they forget to tell me. My mind is numb and it has been this way for days; it’s the pills, the fucking pills! ‘You’re here’ why are you all dressed in black? You know I like to see you in colors. Why are you crying? Please tell me, I can fix it. I was born to make you happy. What do you mean I’m dying? I can’t be I take my medicine every day. Come sit beside me dear, I don’t like this distance between us. You’re blurry, why can’t I see you clearly? It’s the pills, the fucking pills always working, preventing me from seeing you. You’re getting more and more blurry; please hold my hand before you go I don’t know when I’ll see you again. I can’t breathe, why can’t I breathe? It’s the pills, the fucking pills!

I’m dying, don’t leave me. I did this, I admit I did this, but I did it for us. I can be with you now in our world that I’ve created for us, we can be together. Darling, don’t cry. I finally realized what I needed to do to be happy.