To begin again

A story of adornment
The skyline reaches
The breeze whispers
With augmented sonar
The sheer lace
Enveloped skin
Simply said
It begun.


To forget

I sometimes forget that you’re real
What I loved
All of a sudden lost
Yet another love story
Full of clichés
You’re welcome
And I’m sorry
Words thrown
Picked up
To simply be
Pinch and a wake-up call
A crash, boom, bang
For in reality
Highly present
Tangibly aware
And too good to be true.

A story

It’s funny how when two stories combine and become one they no longer make sense on their own. And then when they do split, it’s as if the before has been erased. All this time you think your story has been written in ink yet in that moment of parting you see the pencil contours. Making sense on your own is quite difficult when there’s no permanence to refer to.

But grey isn’t half as bad. You might even prefer it to blue. And it’s far better than black.

His beauty

I looked at him.
“What makes him beautiful?” I thought to myself.
I couldn’t seem to formulate an answer at first. I kept on staring at him, hoping something would give me a clue. I wasn’t expecting a sign, after all he couldn’t see me. From where I was sitting I was well hidden, allowed to observe his every move with tender eyes. I had seen him many times before, sitting on the exact same bench. It was the only bench in the neighborhood which was in somewhat of a proper condition. That is, you could actually sit on it without risking your life.

It’s strange though, observing someone you know from a distance. It feels like cheating. Somehow you’re let in to the vulnerable world of the other. The mother peaking through the slightly open door of her child’s bedroom, watching him play with his imaginary friend. Overhearing your friend, the secretly aspiring singer pouring her soul out during auditions, making you realize you never knew she owned such kind of talent. You don’t want to be caught yet you’d like to share the moment with them.

My thoughts returned me back to reality, back to him, lurking in the distance. I don’t think I know what made him beautiful. Maybe he was beautiful because of how at peace he was with himself. Maybe it was his dark brown hair and piercing green eyes. Maybe it was the way he judged no one, the way you could talk to him without being the slightest bit scared of an undertone unexpectedly jumping out at you. Maybe it was the way he dressed in the morning to go off to his prestigious job.

Perhaps it was all of these things neatly yet not perfectly packaged which made him beautiful in more profound ways. Perhaps it was because despite all the flaws he had, for the first time in my life I didn’t seem to mind. For the first time in my life I hadn’t just found physical beauty but I had found beauty in someone’s soul. As cliché as it might sound, maybe that was what love was all about.

Where we walk

I walked with you by your side
Day in and day out
Not questioning the path
Or if our story was right

I trusted each line you said
After dark in no light
Thinking truth was spoken
With every chapter we read

As our tale unfolded
Taking turns for the worse
I still held on to us
Believing this was how it would be molded

And as changes stormed
I kept on reading each phrase
Hoping we would see
A whole new world to be explored

As each story has a beginning
Every day followed by night
We closed our book
Separating us as the ending.

Tall tales

Tell tall tales, he said
and you will see what happens
Bring down what was brought up
Reach far above head
If standing on toes
While spilling the beans
Your act will seem grander
Stretched to the seams
Dare not be afraid
To add some spice
But if audience applauds
Consider its price
For tales are only
A fiction of mind
The truth of your story
Wins in time.

The push and pull

She warned him. At the very beginning and then continuously as weeks passed. Maybe not as often now as before, thinking he had understood, but hesitation in her every move was sure proof enough. She recognized all the signs but chose to ignore herself. He would catch on. He did not. The worse she treated him and pushed away, the more he stayed on. He had a rare manner of giving her space and accepting what to others was an unbearable situation. Why? It was the comfort of two finding friendship but it was not love. He had been warned but in his mind the red blinking lights shown for love and her. He would never see the forest for the trees.