Friday, February 21

Hello, lover.

She's not afraid to love you; she's afraid you'll love her back. I know of this girl who has hair spun from words of the musicians and dust from the stars. He is a cold broken bulb of love-lessness; but somewhere the light still burns. Her mind like a library; leads you to worlds you can't enter. Her heart a classic Shakespearean tragedy, ends in death only when you've started liking it. How poignantly addicted was she, to the writers and their crimes, their incessantly romantic lies and all the brutally beautiful things that break your heart eventually. In her vivaciously vivid day-dreams she touches you in ways more than one; the kind of touch that breaks your voids of silence, crumbles the monotonous adjustment of peace into letters distant lovers write to each other.

Monday, February 10

I Wrote This For You

Your words collided in emptiness of noise and it won't stop storming in my head. The way your lips sync and the color of your energies replace everything else I've ever learnt of. The beauty of transient things: everything I've ever loved has made me unrecognizable. Eventually, everything reduces itself to poetry. And I loved my poems, but only for the moment you lit them on fire. You're my storm amidst the hurricane and I'm the violent sea that crashes repeatedly in the calm shore. I wonder if we will always be strangers, you and I. If we will ever know each other enough. A cup of coffee, a cigarette, the penetrating aroma of its smoke, an empty room, silence, solitude & poems on paper and no more from life than this. Then there's you. I will always hunger for more. I'll always keep running like a wild soul and sink further into this madness. I'm not your Sunday morning or your Friday sunset. I'm the dark night sky of impulse and indecisiveness. And every time your cold lips touched mine, it tasted like haikus of spring and destructive work of art that were passed through royal generations. Of all the books I read in my childhood you're the one I'd often often lie and dream for hours longingly picture myself amidst a world of infinite sunshine & endlessness. Cause you're not an emotion, you're one of my experiences.