Panacea


My lips against the nape of his neck

hands lightly stroking his back

I would give up the world for that

What would have been if we hadn’t met?

 

I am a moth flying to his raging flame

only to get burnt over and over again

I’ll fly to him every time without a shame

Don’t you know there’s pleasure in pain?
In the midst of the unbearable chaos, he stood

Through the whirling darkness, the only good

Oh how I crave so deeply for his presence

Even if it means to just sit with him in silence

 

 

HIM

I know he isn’t mine to miss

and I shouldn’t be feeling like this

sometimes ignorance can be a bliss

but my soul constantly yearns for his

 

He thinks he hides those lies so well

or maybe I’m caught in a dillusional spell

As I stand here, between heaven and hell

what will become of us only time will tell

 

For so long I never could write of him

And of all this love and pain I’ve held in

Day by day, my light turned dim

till there was nothing but emptiness & sin

 

Today I finally picked up this pen

held in my breath until the count of ten

I must confess of this love & of the pain

drunk on courage, here I write again.

Home

In your arms, in between each heart beat

my worries faded away from beneath my feet

I felt at peace even if the moment was brief

and the whole universe let out a sigh in relief

Your warmth filled up all the tears and cracks

of my tired, broken soul and all that it lacks

In your arms, I knew I had found my home

“Come back oh heart, there’s no need to roam”

Marooned

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While talking to a friend last night, I came to realise something. Something so insignificantly significant: An explanation for this emptiness and loneliness I’ve felt for so long.

I remember reading about Jalaluddin Rumi, and the emptiness he felt, longing for a companion even though he was surrounded by all forms of people who loved him. Upon meeting Shams, the unbearable darkness in his heart was chased away for indeed Shams was a light, his other half, his beloved and his companion . Or in other words as Cristina Yang and Meredith Grey says in Grey’s anatomy – i don’t have “my person”.

Your person is someone who would stick by you, even when it rains hell fire. The person that you know would be there for you. The person who you’re allowed to be selfish with because they’d understand and you’d be the same for them. It’s the person you would call to help you hide the body if you ever committed a murder, and they would help you hide the body no questions asked.

It’s the person who you would love and who loves you to the point that you would go against your moral compass for them. It’s the one person who has seen the worst of you, all your darkness and still decided to stick with you regardless of whatever it maybe. I’m not talking about a significant other, your person can be your parent, sibling or even best friend.

You might wonder where my friends and best friends are. My first best friend has her husband and he is her person, my second best friend has her girlfriend and she is her person. The friend I was talking to is his best friend’s person.

People who’ve come close barely experience a drizzle of this hell fire and ultimately run away though I really can’t blame them either, sometimes people who love me stayed close by, but far enough not to get caught up in it.

It is human to seek such companionship however, all the flares I have sent up to the sky hoping to to be rescued has so far gone unanswered and i am still marooned on this island completely and utterly alone.

 

Reflection I – Twenty four

Bruised, battered

I stood tall

Finally shattered

I took the fall

finding the pieces

that had scattered

Cut myself in the shards

That mostly mattered

At times I held myself together

with just tape and glue

Enduring doesn’t mean stronger

as if you’d have a clue

I have come to realise

at the age of twenty four

No matter how much you take

they’ll give you more

I thought I hit rock bottom

but it’s a bottom less pit

Falling, drowning, breaking

with every hit

Pieces getting smaller

as they shattered

making it harder

to find the ones that scattered

Endure, endure 

endure I must

how do I put myself together

when I’ve become nothing but dust?

[September 2nd 2017, Twenty fourth birthday]

Mother Mary

I’m trying my best to forgive-

you, who failed to protect me

did you not have any love to give?

I suffered most at your hands you see

 

When I had nobody else in this world,

how could you have been so cold?

They say a mother’s love is worth more than gold

Yet you never even offered your hand to hold

 

You shoved your dreams down my throat

but I was born a fighter so I fought

Only to be punished for he answers I sought

Perhaps it was all for naught

 

They say heaven lays beneath your feet

But hell laid in your mouth and I couldn’t stand the heat

You sewed my mouth shut so I couldn’t speak

At last, I ran, does that make me weak?

 

I guess I shouldn’t complain so much

Count all my blessings instead and such

But I wonder what I’m supposed to do

now that I know, I fear more than I love you

 

But I do love you, I really do

I question it when you say “I love you too”

Oh my dear mother mary

would ever forgive me?