Copious Love

Maybe it’s wrong of me,
but what am I to do?
This love is abundant,
you must share it among you.

Will it be enough?
Why can’t you see?
There’s just too much,
this is how it’s meant to be.

For there is a lover,
the one who gives her all.
With warm open arms,
ready to catch me when I fall.

An inspiration for eternity,
like stars that shed their light.
She’s always with me,
the moon to my night.

But this heart isn’t solely hers,
I’m sure she can see,
this love is just too much,
this is how it’s meant to be.

For there is the angry one,
the epitome of rage.
Her wrath knows no bounds,
like an immortal’s age.

She could burn a village down,
spitting fire from her tongue.
Invoking her ire,
signals every war song ever sung.

I admire her,
with unfathomable love she’s yet to see.
This love is too much,
this is how it’s meant to be.

For the ambitious one,
determination is her drive.
Always sharp and calculated,
on precision to arrive.

She pursues her goals with vigor,
and helps me reach mine.
In our union,
We’ll scale mountains that are divine.

Yet, this love is not all for her,
foregoing logic she must see,
it’s all too much,
this is how it’s meant to be.

The dark one can see,
everything I choose to hide.
Pouring all her secrets,
in me to confide.

She is mysterious,
for there is so much more.
To be by her side,
I’ve got be better than before.

I cherish them all,
for they enhance my life,
helping me overcome,
each and every strife.

This love is all for them,
written in stone like an omen.
For in the end,
they’re all the same woman.

Torment

Old wounds were healing,
cuts had scabbed over.
But I was stagnant for so long,
so I wished to go lower.

The deeper I crawled,
the wider the wounds became.
Just different faces,
the circumstances all the same.

Yet I went on,
crawling with everything I had.
Anger and hurt conspired,
the frustration drove me mad.

Pain seeped through the cuts,
much deeper than I had come.
I never thought I’d feel this way,
just what had I become?

A faint cadence echoed,
a grim song was sung.
A prelude to desolation,
the requiem had begun.

Would I die before I got there?
What’s the purpose of this life?
When all I want withers,
always dancing on the edge of a knife.

But these were my choices,
the path that I had laid.
Much more than life,
with my sanity I had paid.

Almost within my reach,
I could taste it on my tongue.
Without any warning,
the final bell had rung.

What was I to do now?
Bleeding at a dead end,
either end my life here,
or else I learn to bend.

A violet lightning struck,
unleashing pain like never before.
The wounds deepened,
ripping through my core.

I could barely move,
not able to turn back.
Resilience wearing thin,
the world began turning black.

In that darkest hour I realized,
even though it was too late,
that everyone must suffer,
for this was our glorious fate.

I remembered my resolve,
all these memories I must erase,
and find the purest redemption,
offered by death’s cold embrace.

Split

I came home from college with a busted nose again. Fortunately my specs were fine. I had to hide my face from my aunt or she would give me crap about getting into fights so often. The funny part about these fights was that I never instigated them. I didn’t even want to fight. They’d just push me around and when I’d react they’d gang up on me. I was surrounded by a bunch of assholes who were obsessed with proving how manly they were. I was growing sick of their herd mentality, their brutality and their mindlessness. Someday all this anger was going to explode and…

A stone shattered my window. I looked outside. Matt was standing there with his usual pissed off demeanor.

“Peter what the fuck are you doing upstairs? Get your ass down here!” he yelled.

“Thanks a ton for the fucking window! What do I tell my aunt?”

“Just leave it like last time.” He was completely unapologetic.

I washed up and made my way down the stairs.

“Peter, honey! I heard something. Are you fine?”

“Yes aunty! I’m good! I’m just going out with Matt.”

“Well… okay.” She had a look of concern. “Just be back before dinner, alright sweety?”

“Yes aunty!” I said as I shut the door and walked out.

Matt was with Luke, which was completely unusual. They were like the opposite of each other. Luke was a nerd who was into books, sci-fi and all the other techy-geeky stuff, whereas Matt was a delinquent.

“Did you forget we had to meet at Mark’s place? John’s already there. Let’s hurry up.” Matt said hoarsely.

“Then why are the two of you still here?”

“That’s because this nerdy bitch didn’t want to leave you behind!” Matt said as he smacked Luke on the head.

“Stop bullying him. I’ve had enough of that shit. And stop breaking my fucking window. Someday my aunt is going to ask me about it!”

“Yea… as if!” Matt said confidently.

We walked towards Mark’s place making our usual shallow, mundane small talk with Luke babbling about his new watch which had a compass and a magnifying glass. Matt spoke about how he stole money from his caretaker’s purse again. We were entering a remote location.

I didn’t really like going to Mark’s place. Firstly, it was isolated. Secondly, it was completely broken down. Not a single piece of furniture was intact. None of us knew how he survived in that shithole. He barely slept, kept to himself most of the time and when he did speak, it always had to be about murder or rape or something like that. I had a fucked up friend circle. Even so, I couldn’t cut them off because we had been friends since we were 5. I met them in kindergarten. We studied together. Apart from that, the only thing we had in common was that we were all orphaned. Matt’s dad bailed out on him when he was born. His mom died of sickness two years later. Luke’s parents died in a fire that broke out because of a gas leakage at home. Mark’s parents were killed by robbers who had broken into their home. They slit his dad’s throat, then raped and murdered his mom while he watched – which explains his psychotic mental makeup. John and I had been childhood friends. We practically grew up together. John’s parents died in a car accident. The worst part about that was my dad was the one driving. None of them survived. My mom passed away from cancer soon after. I was at the mercy of my aunt while the others found their way somehow.

“Look who’s finally here!” John exclaimed. “What happened to your nose?” his smile turned into a frown.

“He probably got his ass beaten again.” Matt said with a grin.

“This is not funny, Matt! Someone needs to teach that asshole a lesson.” John said furiously.

“You know, it’s not just David but those goons with him as well.”

“Yes! But honestly, he is the one who instigates it, doesn’t he? Why don’t you complain to the faculty? They could help you, right?” said Luke.

“Complain to the faculty? What does he look like? A wuss?” Matt cut in. “I would rather take this motherfucker behind the building and beat the shit out of him.”

“Or… we could just kill him. It’ll make things easier for everyone else he bullies.” Mark added.

“It’s a good thing to sit there and give your fucking ideas, but where the fuck are you guys when I’m getting beaten up? None of you are ever around when I need y’all. Every fucking time! The last time I got beaten up in the park because y’all didn’t show up! I’m not risking anything again! Fuck you guys! To top it off, I have to go and explain a fucking broken window to my aunt! So please excuse me!” and I stormed out.

I was pissed off. Their casual suggestions made my blood boil. John came running after me.

“Hold up, Peter!”

“I don’t want to. I’d like to be alone.”

“I’m not going to let you be alone. We made a promise, remember? That we’ll stick by each other no matter what happens.”

“If that’s the case then where the fuck are y’all every time I’m getting beaten up. I can’t even look at my aunt or eat a meal without a lecture every fucking day. If I tell her, she’ll tell the faculty and the whole thing will get even worse!”

“Relax! We all know about that. Just leave this to us this time. We’ll take care of it, okay?”

“Like y’all were supposed to the last time.”

“We just got caught up. It’ll be different this time, okay? Ever since our parents died, the two of us have been like brothers. You’re like the twin I never had. I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you.”

“You said the same damn thing last time, John. You call me your brother but brothers don’t ditch each other. Just stay out of my business. I’ll handle it.”

“How?”

“Endure it till I’m out of this hellhole. I’m anyways getting used to being disappointed and humiliated. It’s not going to make a difference…”

John didn’t respond. I walked away feeling pathetic. I kicked a single stone till I reached home. I didn’t even greet my aunt, I just ran up the stairs. Surprisingly, the window was fixed. My aunt never gave me any shit about broken windows. She never even asked me about them considering how often Matt used to break them.

My head was heavy with thoughts of rage and how I would get stronger and beat David someday. I kept imagining situations where I’d just walk up to him and break his bones or bust his nose but reality brought me back every time I wandered off too far. My nose still hurt. I just decided to sleep it off and not attend college for a while. I wonder what my aunt would think about that. I mean, she does care for me and she does love me but she’s never taken the time to understand or listen to me. She’s always so cautious and scared about my safety and wellbeing that it suffocates me. With friends like mine, who wouldn’t be? I fell asleep thinking about how different my life would have been if mum and dad were still there.

I woke up to a stone hitting my window. Not again! I looked at the time, it was afternoon. As usual, Matt was standing down but there was something wrong. He wasn’t himself. I rushed down.

“What happened?”

“Hurry up. We need to go to Mark’s.”

“Why? What’s with the face?”

Matt grabbed my collar and said, “Because you were such a wuss, John went to fight David. David almost beat him to death. He’s got no one to look after him so we’re taking care of him at Mark’s. Now come on!”

We rushed over to Mark’s place. My heart broke when I saw John lying unconscious. His arm was broken, his face was bruised, his lips were torn and he had a black eye. This was inhumane.

Luke was crying. “L-look w-what he d-did to him!” He said nothing other than that over and over again.

“This has gone on far too long now. I’m going right now and I’m going to beat the shit out of this punk!”

“This is serious. Let’s call the fucking police. This isn’t even a joke. He needs medical treatment!”

“Medicines will not save him as much as retribution would.” Mark said in a grim tone. “We need to put an end to it now. Matt, let’s go find this guy.”

“Wait! Don’t do anything stupid. I’m coming too!”

“I-I’ll stay here with him,” said Luke with tears still in his eyes.

Matt carried a thick stick with him. Mark had his pissed off expression. The three of us went to the parking lot where David usually chilled with his girlfriend.

“Is that son of a bitch him?” Matt asked while pointing his stick to David.

David saw us walking towards him. He had a huge grin on his face as a beautiful girl stood behind him.

“What are you doing here punk and what’s with the stick? You gonna swing that at me? Wasn’t the last time’s beating enough that you’re back here for some more?” David said haughtily.

“It was fine till it was me. Why did you have to do that to John?”

“Who the fuck is John, you stupid twit? I don’t even know who you’re talking about. Get lost before I break your teeth!”

The very fact that he denied to remember John, pissed the three of us off. Matt didn’t even wait and swung the stick straight on David’s face. The girl behind him ran screaming for help. Matt kept hitting David. Mark stood there. I jumped on David and began punching him till I broke his nose. With each punch I felt redeemed. I was giving back to him what he gave me this whole time. We were beating him on behalf of the dozens he had tormented for years. I didn’t care where and how, I just landed punches after punches. Mark slowly walked towards us.

“That’s enough, move aside.” He said in a stern voice.

“I don’t think so. Not after what he did to John.”

“You misunderstand. I’m ending this now.”

“What do you mean by ending this?” I was a little worried.

Mark pulled out a knife. “I mean I’m going to end it. Hold his head up, Matt.” My worry turned to fear.

“Hey! Don’t do that! We’re not murderers!”

“I don’t care anymore. Think about it, if he is allowed to walk out of here alive, he will come after you again. Think about all the other guys like you that he tortures. If we finish this now, it will be a boon for all of them, it will be a boon for you and it will be retribution for John. Don’t stop me. He deserves this.”

Matt held David up as Mark continuously stabbed him in the gut. A police car sped towards us and caught us in the act. I just stood there in horror pulling my hair. There was blood on my hands. We were taken to the police station and locked up. Matt and I told the cops that we had an injured friend who needed help. We gave them the location. Mark just sat against a wall frozen. There was no emotion on his face. Matt was abusing every cop that passed by, blaming the system and how it fails to catch the real culprits before the victims take matters into their own hands and are criminalized. No one paid heed.

After a few hours, they took us to a room that only had a table and a few chairs. There was an officer sitting before us. He cleared his throat, looked at me and began speaking.

“What’s your name, boy?”

“It’s Peter.”

He nodded. “So Peter… can you tell me why exactly did you feel it was necessary to stab one of your classmates in the stomach over and over again till he bled out and died?”

“I didn’t want to kill him. I swear I didn’t. But he deserved it. He tormented me and others like me for years. I wouldn’t even have done it. I had decided to endure it till I passed out of college but then he beat up John and that pushed us over the edge!”

“Who is John?”

“John is a good friend who was severely beaten up by David! I told the other officers where he is right now. He needs help!”

“The place you mentioned is nothing but a broken down, isolated building on the outskirts, Peter. There’s no one there.”

“What do you mean? I’m guessing Luke must have taken him and gone someplace else, right guys?” I was worried. “Have your men looked properly?”

“Yes they have.” The man looked puzzled and worried.

“I doubt it! At least take Mark there. Mark lives there so he’d tell you exactly where they are!”

“Who is Mark?” he asked with his brows thickened with confusion.

I pointed to the chair Mark was sitting on, “Here! This guy. He’s Mark.” I pointed to the chair Matt was sitting on and said, “That’s Matt”.

“Son… there’s no one there. Just like there was no one at the place you mentioned.”

“What do you mean? They’re right fucking here!” My heart began racing. Cold sweat trickled down my spine. “Guys!” I looked at both of them, “say something! Tell him you’re here!”

They remained silent.

“You saw us at the parking lot, right? Mark was stabbing D-David as M-Matt held him up… Tell him guys!”

“There was no one there except you, Peter. My men saw you holding that boy down and stab him repeatedly. The girl accompanying him said you were talking to yourself and swung a stick on David’s head and then stabbed him. I think you have a serious problem, boy.”

I began shivering. What the fuck was happening. I looked at the two of them. They were looking at each other.

“Oh! We got caught, Mark!” Matt grinned.

“We did.” Mark responded.

I turned my gaze to the man before me. In a flash, Matt and Mark were standing behind him. I felt dizzy and blacked out. When I came to my senses I was in a straitjacket lying flat on my stomach. I opened my eyes and looked around to find myself alone with the four of them in an empty white room. I understood everything and began laughing maniacally. Shit! It was just me all along.

Right Here With You

I gently moved my fingers on her face. She looked so innocent, sleeping peacefully in my arms. All the mysteries she held in the deep dark corners of her mind seemed to be at peace as she lay motionless. I kissed her forehead, held her tightly as my eyes shut. I’ve never been this comfortable with anyone. I have dated before but this woman seemed different, almost supernatural. The very fact that she managed to sweep me off my feet and capture my senses to the point of devotion was remarkable. It had been 2 years since we began seeing each other and 6 months since we moved in. Maybe it was too early and maybe we hadn’t tamed all our demons, but I kept telling myself that better days were ahead of us.

I woke up to the piercing rays of the sun, my vision was still hazy. I rubbed my eyes and looked to my side but she wasn’t there. I got up with a heavy head and began looking for her. She wasn’t in the toilet and neither was she in the living room. Panicking, I rushed towards the kitchen. I looked around and found her sitting on the floor stuck to a corner. Her wrists still had bandages from the last time she tried to kill herself. Her head was resting on folded arms as she cried bitterly. I sat beside her and held her. She lifted her head and pushed me away.

“Don’t touch me! I don’t deserve this!” her cries got louder.

“Don’t deserve what, sweetheart? What happened?”

“Dalton dumped me! Craig dumped me! My parents abandoned me! Am I that ugly? What did I do wrong?”

Dalton and Craig were her boyfriends before me. Her parents died when she was 9. The couple that adopted her abandoned her at the age of 19 because they thought she was crazy.

“You’re not ugly and you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m right here with you. They don’t matter. I’m right here!” I said as I tried holding her again.

“I’m crazy! I’m a mess! What if you leave me too! I’m so scared… I’m so scared” I held her close. I could hear her muffled voice saying, “I’m scared”, over and over again as I kept holding her.

“I’m not going anywhere honey. I’m not going to leave you, alright?” I looked into her brown eyes and kissed her. She stopped crying.

This was our everyday routine. Sometimes I’d wake up finding her asleep. There were times she’d be in different corners of the house crying. Sometimes she blankly stared at the walls mumbling something vague. Despite these tendencies, when we were normal, we were great together. She supported me and loved me like no one had before. She was kind and thoughtful. Although, there were times when I’d come home and she would just yell at me and demean me but she calmed down soon after. I was willing to carry that burden. Waiting for her to realize that I wasn’t going anywhere, waiting for her to get over her past and make peace with the demons that haunted her. I knew deep down that something was wrong but she never told me everything. One day, I decided we needed help. So I asked her to come with me to a psychiatrist.

“Do you think I am crazy!” she said furiously.

“I’m not saying that you’re crazy. There is something bothering you, I know it. Maybe a psychiatrist can help.” I was calm.

“A psychiatrist! Those so called parents of mine tried taking me to one too! They thought I was crazy! Dalton and Craig thought I was crazy! And now even you fucking think I am crazy!” she began yelling. I wondered what the neighbors might think. I still kept my calm.

“I am not saying you are crazy. Please try to understand. Maybe a psychiatrist can help get to the root of your problems. I just want us to be normal, you know.”

“Oh! So this isn’t good enough for you? I am not good enough the way I am? Why don’t you just leave me like everyone else did!”

“I am not going to leave you. Just listen to me. I want us to be happy again. If this helps why not try it?”

“Are you saying that you aren’t happy with me? Because that’s what you’re implying, you asshole! I fucking hate you! You know what? I’ll just leave!” She rushed to the kitchen.

I walked behind her. She picked up a knife and put it to her bandaged wrists. She had done this before. I caught hold of her.

“Let me go!” She yelled. “Everyone blamed me for the time mom and dad died. Everyone thinks I’m crazy! I just want to die!” she began crying, “I just want to die!”

I kept holding her till she let go of the knife. We both sank to the floor.

“I don’t think you’re crazy. If you don’t want to see a psychiatrist, we won’t but promise me you won’t try to kill yourself, okay?”

“I’m so sorry! All this is so fucked up! I’m sorry” she said and kissed me.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yes…” she said with a smile.

I never brought up the psychiatrist again. I simply tried my best to keep her happy but no matter how hard I tried, there were days when she would just break down. It was getting difficult but if I didn’t stand by her now, who would? I wanted to get her back on her feet and pursue her passion for art. She used to paint beautifully. She always captured the essence of the world around her on a canvas. Watching her paint was an honor. I took pride in what she did and I knew once this was over, she could excel even further. When the thought of her painting crossed my mind, I had an idea.

I enrolled her for special classes in painting where she would learn different styles from professionals. She was a free spirit and had learned to paint on her own. With professional guidance, I knew she’d attain new heights. It would also serve as a distraction. It worked like a charm. She became more confident. I often picked her up after work, and greeted her with roses and chocolates. I kept reminding her how much I loved her, how much she meant to me. I made sure she never felt unwanted. Things seemed so much better. The gloomy atmosphere at home ceased. I woke up to a more cheerful her. I felt accomplished. I somehow knew things would get better.

I woke up one day, feeling suffocated. Something felt odd. She was next to me. Her eyes wide open with an expression as blank as a stone.

“Good morning, sweetheart. Are you fine?”

She didn’t respond. She continued staring at the ceiling. I touched her. She turned her head and looked at me with a dead expression.

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m just feeling a little sick, I won’t be going for classes today.”

“Alright! Would you like some breakfast?”

“I’ll have some later.”

She wasn’t responsive. She continued to lay in bed while I went to work. I was a little scared the entire day and called frequently to check on her. She was fine. I rushed home from work and she was still there. This continued for 3 days. She had a mild fever so I didn’t push her. She was painting something on the canvas so I assumed she was okay. I continued as I normally would.

A meeting had me trapped at work for an hour more than my daily schedule. I managed to rush back home. I ran up the stairs hoping she was fine. I had an uneasy feeling the entire day. I opened the door and my bag fell from my hand as I stood there with an open mouth. The living room was lit with candles that had a pleasant aroma. Four paintings of us together stood at the center of the room. There was a bottle of wine in an ice bucket which rested on our modern credenza. It was beautiful. Tears rolled down my cheeks. After all these years, no one had done this for me. I stood there admiring all of it, soaking it in emotionally. I never felt this loved in my life. A path of rose petals led to the bedroom. I knew what was waiting for me in there.

I had a face full of joy as I followed the rose petals into the bedroom. I can’t believe she did all of this. I yelled, “I love you!” as I opened the door. I choked as a strong wind blew all the candles out. Through that faint darkness, I was able to see her body hanging from the ceiling fan. I stood in shock hoping this was a dream, an illusion. I turned on the lights but reality slapped me in the face. It wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare. I got her cold body down, crying, wondering what went wrong. What made her do this?  There was a little note that stuck out of her blouse. I picked it up and began reading.

“If you’re reading this, it’s probably too late. Before I say anything, I just want you to know that I love you and none of this is your fault. No one has held me like you have. No one could kiss me like you did. No one stood by me like you did. Everyone turned their back on me thinking I was insane but you didn’t. You were always there to comfort me. You dealt with everything I threw at you like no one before which is why it was so much harder to do this.

Things got difficult after mom and dad died. I was at the backseat crying when dad turned to look at me and lost control. I knew it was my fault and I should have died with them but I didn’t. Everyone just reminded me of it. When I was adopted, they expected me to be normal but I wasn’t. I was damaged so they treated me like that. Eventually they got rid of me. The same way Dalton did when he cheated on me. Craig beat me up. I still loved them both but they walked away making things even more difficult. I had given myself up to them thinking they’d fix me but they only broke me further. Then you came along and everything changed. You loved me like no one did before. For that I am grateful. All I ever wanted was to be accepted for who I was but soon I realized that it wasn’t a possibility. No one would accept me. No one could love me completely for who I am because who I am or what I am is a mess.

You endured so much and I knew you would never leave me. Even though you failed to see it, you’d stick by me till the end. At the same time, I couldn’t deprive you of a better life you deserved. You’re an awesome guy and you deserve so much better but I kept pulling you down. I couldn’t give you a better life which is why I had to take this step. I hope you understand and don’t blame yourself for any of this. Darling, I love you! With all my heart, I love you forever!

PS: I never thanked you for all that you’ve done for me. So I left you a present outside. Those paintings will remind you of us. Your favorite wine is in the bucket. I had bought these candles just for you. We’ll be together one day but not here and not like this.”

Thick drops of tears fell on the paper I held. My trembling hand was on her lifeless face. If only I had seen it. If only I wasn’t stupid enough to assume I had fixed her, this would not have happened. My ignorance and lack of understanding led to all of this. My mind was blank. My feet moved by themselves. I was barely conscious. All I knew was that I had to be with her. I grabbed a knife, closed my eyes, and saw her standing before me.

“I’m coming, darling” I whispered.

She spread her arms wide open and I followed her into the darkness.

Reality

I don’t know when it happened but it just did. No matter where I chose to run, I always found myself in the same predicament. I always had to pick my scabs. If I didn’t there was always someone else who did it for me. I couldn’t escape this, I was bound to suffer. I never believed in destiny or fate. I always believed that I chose my own destiny and I chose my own fate but my choices always ended in misery and uncontrollable anguish. The more I tried to break away from these chains, the more I found myself entangled in them. Some chains were too heavy to carry.

People never understood the kind of world I live in. Every time I thought I found someone who did, I was left disappointed. If they didn’t disappoint me, they destroyed me. My world felt like a land shrouded in darkness. The ground was covered in broken glass. Violet lightning, constant snow storms and raining blades were the only seasons I knew. Every time I gathered the courage to walk through it, the chains kept getting thicker and heavier until I had to crawl in order to attain what I wanted. Even if the skin was ripped off my flesh and my flesh ripped off my bones, I didn’t stop. I endured it because I was desperate to look for a way out. Every time I thought I had found a way out, I only realized that the pain receded because I stopped moving. The closer I got to an exit, the farther it moved. Even by the time I reached the people I had been chasing after, there was nothing left but shredded flesh and scraped bones. I was just a mutilated walking corpse of nothing. Even if they picked me up from that darkness and took me to light, the moment they saw all that ugliness, they abandoned me instantly purging me deeper into the ground. There was no escaping it.

This is my reality. Maybe bouts of happiness came and went, maybe there were good times, but no matter what happened, at the end of it I was always alone. The only constant in my life was this pain and this darkness. Soon enough, it became my home. Some say it’s a state of mind but for me, this is reality. This is the truth. I had to accept it. I took a last look around, and began pounding whatever was left of my head into the broken glass beneath me. Yet, it was not enough to kill me.

Coma

In the darkness of her conscience,
silently she screamed.
Echoes lost to the void,
like whispers in a dream.

The watchers never understood,
the seers never saw,
all her trials and tribulations,
the depths she had to claw.

The sandman didn’t come too often,
to her aid he never flew.
With each waking moment,
the madness steadily grew.

Everything became a blur,
the sands of time were wearing thin.
Reality and fantasy collided,
revealing all she held within.

No one could save her,
of this she was sure.
Days turned to months so quickly,
yet she could find no cure.

Despair swung violently,
like the pendulum in the final hour.
Hopelessness took control,
as better emotions were turning sour.

Sunshine made no difference,
the rain had lost its charm.
Night offered no refuge,
her health was lost to harm.

No one saw her suffer,
dark circles began to bloom.
Lost in a constant daze,
surrounded by murky clouds of gloom.

“Were there others with this curse?”
She looked up and asked the moon.
Standing on the bridge between two worlds,
hoping the sandman would pay a visit soon.

Monument

The broken building crumbles more,
a piece of the emblem falls off the side.
Once a magnificent structure,
with its head held high with pride.

The residents maintained it,
like a mother who cares for her child.
They loved and respected it,
through thick and thin they always smiled.

Everyone who saw it,
was mesmerized by its graceful charm.
Some wished to dwell in it,
while others came only to harm.

The tenants who sought to trade,
took the souls of the residents.
One by one uprooting them,
the downfall was evident.

The tenants never cared for the building,
they used it till it cracked.
Without preservation or care,
the pillars began to react.

Alas! The pillars were weak,
a huge portion of the building had to fall.
The tenants backed out,
the residents believed they were standing tall.

They fought among themselves,
and continued for years to come.
Neglecting the pride of the structure,
now look at what it has become.

The lion’s heads fall off,
breaking one by one.
Power, courage, pride and confidence,
the concrete was coming undone.

Although with ambition,
a few of them try to mend,
but their efforts are often foiled,
by the others who pretend.

The residents bark and claw,
tear and divide.
Rape and murder,
behind closed doors they hide.

The saffron cloths try to mask,
the evident holes and gaps,
but why hide the obvious,
instead of bridging the lapse?

The residents often recall the glorious days,
when passersby would stop and stare.
But this decayed hollow structure stands broken,
because within their own trifles the residents ceased to care.

Walking Stick

In a land that lost sight,
there’s only darkness before their eyes.
Obscurity and bitterness reign,
with the iron fist of lies.

They can’t tell black from red,
or red from blue.
Wandering helter-skelter,
looking for a clue.

Tripping on the words of God,
but never learning from the fall.
Guided by selfish, corrupt notions,
always running into a wall.

A walking stick can help,
but is it really enough?
Especially when you stumble to ignorance,
a victim to another’s bluff.

Yet they scream and rave,
like they can describe faces.
They rant about scenic beauty,
without ever seeing those places.

They talk about tall mountains,
without ever scaling their grace.
So verbose about the trophies,
they win from their rat race.

There’s no conviction in the words,
wagging their tongues like a sword.
But that is all they have,
why use it to create discord?

Only in the wake of suffering,
the sight returns as regret.
Then disappears like a magic trick,
as soon as they begin to forget.

Love and kindness gone,
malice and hatred have them confined.
With sticks towards oblivion they walk,
as perfect vision keeps them blind.

Hollow

The depths often vacillate,
swaying in throes of uncertainty.
Finding obscurity in the spaces,
where answers once begged.

Doubts cloud better judgment,
a victim of the darkened moon.
Even shadows betray their masters,
like lepers that healed too soon.

The verbose love-letters heal,
the crippled who seek that hope,
but what of the snakes that lurk,
spitting the venom of yesterday?

The black cloak protected,
while the kettle remained full.
Then the third eye shut,
and the senses cozened.

The black cloak has disappeared,
along with the gods who foresaw,
every storm that broke,
and left the kettle empty.

This kettle is empty and dry,
like tongues of hypocrites in white robes.
Silence means despair,
despair always precedes hope.

Where is the black cloak,
and the vomit which kept the kettle full?
The thirsty are waiting with cups,
for what they think is the elixir.

My people need me!
But their God disappeared long ago,
within voices of blasphemy,
in regret and plastered delusions.

Wake up from my absurd dreams,
the former lives made no sense.
Who you thought was me vanished,
now just a hollow of pretense.

Accept

It’s funny where expectations can lead us. You never really know what you’re supposed to do in a dire situation till someone expects you to. You’re never going to be guilty till someone expects you to be guilty. You’re never going to cry till someone expects you to cry. You can hold your father’s cold face in a coffin and still not shed a tear until you hear the crowd behind you mourning in agony, and somehow you know that is what is expected of you. You could walk up to your best friend’s mother covered in blood to tell her that her son died in an accident while you did everything you could to save him. She looks into your dead eyes, begins to cry and you tell her you are sorry because an apology is somehow supposed to comfort her. You can look into your lover’s eyes and tell her how much you love her because that’s the ideal form of romance that is expected. You can be abused as a child and grow up to exact revenge because that is what is expected, nay? So many standards, so many expectations and there were so many things I thought I’d never do but still, here I am.

This is the most broken I have been in a while now. I’ve been broken before but never to the extent that I felt helpless and pathetic. I’ve been through tough times and I always pulled through, yet, here I was, writhing in self-doubt and the anguish in realizing that there was no way I could claw out of this hole. I didn’t expect things to turn out this way. We were motionless, sitting ducks waiting to be shot at. We knew what was to be done but we didn’t have the heart to do it. I didn’t even have the heart to look into her eyes for fear that I may cry and this entire façade of being strong would shatter like a window hit by a stone. I kept biting my lips, looking around for some place where I could hide these emotions. There wasn’t any opening, and there wasn’t a single street sign that welcomed grief with comforting arms. It was hopeless. We held each other’s hands and tears rolled down our cheeks in disbelief. I had been broken before but never this way. I would have been even more, if she wasn’t holding my hand. She kept me together at the seams, her hands wrapped around the edges to ensure I wouldn’t fall off. She held me, like a window film that protects a glass from shattering. I couldn’t live up to the expectation of being strong, so I withered like a snowflake in harsh winds and she stood with open palms to collect the tiny fragments of my soul. She stood by me, just as I stood by her. We both rode the rollercoaster of being strong and weak, taking turns, like we were sitting on a seesaw of ups and downs.

We were at the graveyard, as they pushed our baby into a hole. We both contemplated about being the ones to replace that coffin but reality reminded us that it was not meant to be. All my expectations crumbled. I looked at her. Her heart was so heavy… I had never seen her like this. I could only imagine the pain she went through, the pain she is going through and all the pain she will be subjected to. I assumed she needed me through her nightmares and bad daydreams, but she didn’t. She endured all that pain and continued to endure more. Though I was expected to be the strong one, she took the stead. In spite of the pain, she had the strength to smile, look into my eyes, hold my hands and tell me, “It will all be okay.” For the first time in my life, I knew what was expected of me, moreover, because she was with me. We gazed into each other, as thick drops of tears rolled down our cheeks. We held on to our better conscience, and just knew that what we expect isn’t as important as what we accept. They covered the grave and we moved on.