A Kindling Soul

Not your perfect body, Nor your hollow soul, Not of that darkness, of being under control. Not your strength, Nor that smile shaped trapdoor. Not of you, you don't scare me anymore. No cringing at the scars. Of those chaffing grips, Left by you and your blasphemous whips. No staring into the chasm of the dark. No nightmares, no silent tears. No shivers, no more of your fears. No waiting for a glint of light, No more watching my back, For the fear of your spineless attacks. Not scared of the water pouring down. Nor of the silent, unhinged door. You don't scare me anymore. So, come, stand before me again. I won't back down, I won't sway. This time, you won't have your way. You've had it, too many times, anyway. I am strong, I bring with me, might. It won't be fear that you'll see in my eyes. Give your best shot, I'd like to see you try. You may have won, many times before. But you see, I am not fragile anymore. The woun...

Do you remember me? I remember even the smell of your breath. The way you would move, and around you, the air, Somehow, always, caught in your hair. How my heart would skip a beat When I would see you. Only, just, see. A kiss would take my life, then hand it back to me. You told me there was no love there. But there was spark. There was volatility. There were explosions,so many; uncanny. Do you remember the night sky, the stars? The silence that you hated? The questions that I asked? A weak moment has me running through the past. Do you ever think Of the silhouettes and the shadows? The dew, the stones, the weed? How our breaths lulled us to sleep? Yes, there was love there. It's just that you never knew. I caught on, but, a tad too late. The only thing you couldn't satiate. I would listen, as you would talk About the others that ruled your thoughts Do you know how many times I died? Parts of me even your kisses didn't revive. You ensure...

As her arm slid out From under her pillow, And reached A cold and rather Biting bed sheet, She froze, And pulled back Her arm, still reaching, Unsure, And fell back to sleep. While she dreamt Of sunshine, And red Calla Lilies, And hands intertwined, Succinct and lithe, A smile returned To a face that'd forgotten What it meant to be Sunny, And irrationally blithe. But a dream is a dream, How ever hard you try It ends, Whether twisted Or sprayed in calm, Eyes to the ground, She walked in the rain No surprise when she found Fisted, Her heart and her palms.

There is this ache That starts at the bottom of my neck And ends at my heart. But the pain never ceases. I remember my head on your shoulder. Watching your chest rise And in perfect rhythm, fall. And fall. I wait for your warmth To engulf my being again. To hear your laughter. And fill my heart’s hollow silence. Oh what would I give To watch you bury your face in my lap again. To feel your smile reach my face. And wish good riddance to these tears. Hold me, from a far. Lie with me. Close my eyes, and put me to sleep. And wake me up only when you’re here.

They screeched They scratched At the windows, closed,  At the curtains, well juxtaposed. The dim light that seeped, The light music that bled They clawed,and mauled and snapped At that, which they had not had. Turned and twisted Their necks and heads, and minds. Desire and envy were never in short supply In the green monochrome of their tinted eyes. Every lithe tread was a threat. Every word whispered a writing on the wall. They eyed the house, every look a stone What holds up the structure? Does anyone know? They waited for the rains. They begged and begged for slaughterous storms. They prayed hard for hard hail. But to no visible avail. In the cold winters, the house glowed with warmth. Summers seemed brighter in its proximity. In the rains, it smelled like wet earth. Oh, what has given to this magnanimity birth? At the slightest tremor, they ran, Galloped, to watch the carnage; But its unassailability brought to...

She walked into the bar, dressed to kill. The group of men standing near the entrance exchanged glances, and their eyes followed her down the room. Her little black dress was adorned with sequins on the empire waist-line. Her hair was open, but it looked like the wind had been in a brawl with it. A very controlled brawl. She went to the bar; the bartender gave her a hug from over the counter, and handed her a shot of Absinthe, without a word from her luscious red mouth. She gulped it down in a go, and then repeated the process 3-4 more times, before heading off to the dance floor. Various people greeted her, it was obvious that everyone knew her. And if they didn’t, they wanted to. She danced openly, no sign of any reserves. Her candour rubbed off on those around her (or was it the alcohol?), but everyone moved to the same rhythm as her. Her hair grew wilder, like it had a mind of its own. More shots were bought, and gulped down without any ado. The night was young, there was no point...

The empty stairs ring with the silence Of your absence; Of the vacant space next to my nothingness. A cold, morose jingle plays in the distance. My heart, tessellated with memories. Of you. Of you and me. The empty stairs haunt every step, Bereaved of much sanity, Wandering, lifeless, lonesome. Loathe, loathsome existence. Such provisional misdemeanours. No ladder that can be climbed, To lead to you or your arms. The warmth has disappeared. The icy wind scoffs in my ear. The empty stairs mock my loneliness. The dew on the grass fails to tickle. Waiting, waiting for home. Tireless, tired feet walk. Towards you, us. Every breath is a stretch. Every step a toll. Time didn’t stop then. Why has it now? The jar glows, like your eyes did. The empty stairs ring with the silence, Deriding me, killing me softly. The empty stairs are suffused with your laughter. And my hollow heartbeats.