Oh world of mine

Oh lover, disappointment be thy name.
A minute stretched to hours, less figuratively.
All words are farse, truth is a lie in itself.
Oh lover, contentment be my name.
Patience turned to lack of self worth.
All lies etched deep into my skin, believing everything.

Oh mother, what world have you brought me into.
The dreams lie tattered around me
Half-realised to frustrating extents.

Oh father, what strong walls you’ve built around me.
They cage my heart within the body they’re meant to safeguard.
Crushing me as I dare to breathe.

I’ve lost more than I found

I found a friend, a brother, a magnanimous soul.

I lost a lover, a decent human being.

I found shelter, care, support and warmth.

I lost it the second I walked out without a second glance.

This time, the fault was mine. I take entirety of the blame, but isn’t it true that I did give second, third and many chances to you?

This is why, I mind catching feels for another. This is why, I avoid labels and commitments with others.

Wrong time, wrong word, wrong place, wrong circumstance and easily it could have been changed.

I just don’t know how.

I’ve never done this before, remember?

And if you go now, I’ll never do this. Never.

And if you stay now, and forgive

Then perhaps and maybe

I have been right to catch feels.

Cigarette Smoking is Injurious to Health. Please Read my fiction carefully.

Close-Up Photography of a Person Holding Cigarette

I dragged you away from my lips like an old cigarette that didn’t taste quite as poisonous as the smoke already inside my lungs that I had kept trapped over years of inhalation and when I exhaled it this once pushing it out from deep in my core, the smoke ring traced the shape of your jawline. You were always a chain addiction. It was impossible to have just moments of you and not engulf you whole with every single drag because every hit I took, every cough you gave was filling me in with the smoke but also the warmth and the high that only you could.  Continue reading

A thousand and one stories #30 French Fries

There’s a bed I share with only me. The pillows that stay pay rent by soaking my tears and inhaling the curses and sobs I exhale onto it.
The quilt pays taxes to my body, hiding it from the world, it’s a good place to escape in. This bedsheet and mattress hold me together.. each piece of me that breaks, they take care of it proper till I’m ready to pick it back up and glue the stuff back to my skin again.
What I wouldn’t do to be thin again!
But the food I eat, delivered to me on this bed got spilt and scattered but that never mattered to me. Continue reading

A thousand and one stories #28 Everybody knows

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There’s an unspoken pact amongst all individuals to never say a word when there’s an established fact roaming around. Everybody knows but find it better to not say a word
Like if you see two long lines on my wrist, you will be amongst hundreds who see them. And among hundreds who never said a word.
If you see a mother struggling to keep her son sit silently in the corner after twenty protests and threats, you’ll be among all the other witnesses who avoided eye contact and thought ‘what a mess’.
There are some things that just become routine. Like how I comb my hair every day in the morning and no one says a word. It’s an established fact.
Like how I come with my mascara running one day and no one says a word. My father died. It’s not to be talked about.
I see the silent stares and hear the unspoken words being shouted in my subconscious but on the surface, it’s calm.
“Hi, Betty. Another coffee, please? No sugar this time.”
This isn’t silence. It’s much worse. It’s enforced silence that comes as a result of ‘Not getting into this mess’.
Everybody knows.
But it’s not everybody’s shit to deal with.
So I put LSD in her coffee. And I tattooed my arm. I started wearing waterproof mascara and then jumped on a bus to nowhere.
I talked my head off to a hippie who had his earphones on the whole time. I told him every secret dark thought I’d had and how I tried to kill myself in perfect detail.
I yelled when the bus stopped and walked in the hottest temperature my skin had felt for what seemed like miles.
But the enforced silence just wouldn’t leave my side when the cars passed by staring at the same old hitchhiker.
When the biker turned his head to eye her over, same old thought. Not one word. Everybody knows what to do in this situation. Never trust strangers. But well, she was defying what everybody was so sure about.
So she jumped on the bike and started singing. The shittiest and saddest songs she had heard of. And he dropped her off at the next gas station.
She fell, miserably into a bad mood from where it was always hard to revive her soul back. But revive it she must, right?
There was a lot more to defy. Nah, everyone knows you should fight the darkness in those times so she succumbed to it and bought a cigarette
Lit it right there
Let the burning lighter fall to the ground. Let the smoke fill her lungs, and the fire her skin.
There was a psycho chick who blew up a gas station. No one came to claim her body.

Everybody knows.

It was such a tragedy.

Yet no one really talks about it.

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