Found You Tonight

Credits: www.flickr.com/photos/katerinamitchell

I found you tonight. I thought I’d lost you forever, between the rain & the thunder that shook my world. But no, I found you tonight. Right where I had left you, you were, in the middle of the dismay & indifference. Right where I thought I shouldn’t look. But I found you tonight, and I dusted you, and I took out my reading glasses to study you. You were still the same; the same chapters I had read a hundred times, the same dog-eared stories, the same half-written epistles. I went through them all once again when I found you tonight. I cuddled up in bed, brought my knees up to my chest, and read you again, word for word. And with every word, I realized, your stories might be the same, but my understanding isn’t quite so. I see you even more beautifully now. With age comes grace, you know. And you have aged as beautifully as a flower blooming in the sun. I found you tonight, my old friend, and although you might feel lonely on the shelf that is my life, I will still find you every time I need a friend, just like I found you tonight.

Even in Death

Silently, I sit here, awaiting your inevitable return. Silent, in my corner of desolation. Silent, surrounded only by the ashes of my once burning desire. Silently longing for the moment I get to see your face again. But what if you return too late, when I’m choking on my last breath, or maybe even when the last atom of my body has turned to ice? You would see the ashes and believe I had nothing left for you. Or maybe you would believe that I found my absolution in this isolation.

But no! I leave you these words; this last testament of my love, my devotion. Even when my body had been buried six feet under your feet, there is still an ember that burns as a beacon for your eternal soul.

Even in death I shall be yours. Is there no greater curse?

Sifting Through

No, I don't miss you at all. (sigh)

Put life in a bag. Take a hammer to it. Smash it around until all turns to dust. Then sift through it. Take out the slightly larger pieces of dust that refused to get any smaller, any more insignificant. Put those pieces on a velvet cloth. Throw everything else away. Polish those pieces. And put them in a bullet-proof glass showcase. Refer to them as your crown jewels when people look at them admiringly.

After all, the world should see your friends as what they truly are.

Forest of You

In the middle of a forest of you lies my sanity. The deeper I go to look for it, the more in love I fall with you. The more in love I fall with you, the more repulsed I am by the beast I have come to find that you are. & the voices in my head tell me that there is no prince under this beast, yet I delve deeper and deeper. & now that I’m lost in this forest of you, I’ve realized you are everything I’ve been running from all my life.

But now it’s too late. I’m too deep. And there no way out… from within this forest of you.

Afterglow

In the aftermath of a heartbreak,

In the aftereffects of a world falling apart,

I’m surviving,

Living every moment,

Breathing every second,

Shining through & through,

Reflecting your afterglow.

The Small Stuff

Contrary to popular belief, poets and writers don’t always write sonnets or stories with ever-thickening plots. Sometimes they just jot down the small stuff that comes to their mind, like a small paragraph, a simple line or even just a word. This “small stuff” later acts as an inspiration for some of the best works.

I might not be much of a writer or a poet, but I still scribble small stuff down, on the sticky notes on my computer’s desktop, or on a notepad I always carry with me, or even on pieces of paper I find in my purse or wallet. Some of those lines actually make sense. So here they are:

The beauty and bane of adolescence is that it makes you believe you have too much time.

Silences never kill people. It is what the silences entail that do all the damage; the words left unsaid, the questions left unasked, the assumptions made. No, silences never kill people.

When you finally realize that you’ve sold your ethics for the want of two meals a day that is when you need to start reevaluating your whole life.

At times it is best to leave all judgment to God, even the judgment of self, because He loves you enough to forgive you for stuff that even you wouldn't forgive yourself for.

You can't save everyone from their own personal hell; a lot of them might not even want to be saved. But still, you have to tell yourself that you gave it your best shot.

Keep your friends close and give your enemies a cookie.

It should be criminal to break an already broken heart before it has had a chance to fix itself.

Falling in love with a workaholic is all about faith and hope; faith in that he will return home to you every night & hope that he can distinguish between home & his workplace.