Strike two

She has eyes strikingly hazel and dusky skin that reminded him of sunsets and the flush of blood pulsing underneath her  neck, so very alive and warm. Some days it feels like the earth is swallowing her and even the ocean can't understand the emptiness in her, some days stone preaches to her heart about softness .

He imagines his mouth on her skin and she pictures freedom from him and his persuasive eyes .

She's  counted her blessings on the stars and the sky rent asunder to show her the stars weren't enough .

Except for him , the burning desire that pulsed through her arteries ,her heart skips a beat , lust calling her name and claiming her soul in a rush of impassioned mistakes.

Apologies couldn't keep anyone sane but she would find that the hard way. Suffering is a form of life she had never pictured until she had to live it. Patience bent into her bloodstream , the caverns of her veins echoing with decided resignation.

Only God loves you enough to forget the devil that walks around with your heart and name.

RIP to another soul lost to the obscurity of the afterlife

Death catches you unexpected , like a fog you walk in to to find yourself blinded and confused.
I walk into the kind of silence only death can invoke, murmurs pressing up against each other , sighs escaping tired lips , everyone treading the dreaded path nobody chooses to walk on, prayers pulsing through veins that are now acutely aware of how very much alive they are.
I woke up this morning to that fog. To be reminded of how grateful I should be for life and everything that is worth living for.

you've only got yourself and your insanity

But you make it messy when it's going good. You make it all so messy and your face blurs every memory in me until I'm standing next to you and I used to mean something to you.
What satisfaction do you get living your pathetic life glued to people in virtual worlds who don't give a damn ? What fun is it being a fan of a game, I never understood and what pleasure did you get in selling out and god you are so beautiful I wish you wouldn't.  I wish you wouldn't sell out because you are worth so much more.  I wish you wouldn't sell your soul to the devil and I wish your face wouldn't break my heart everytime I looked at it. You've insistently consumed me and I'm tired of your flames girl and I've been burnt so thoroughly that I'm all but a handful of ashes in your hands and can you please let go of me.
You're a beautiful lie.
It's a trap and everything you've been banking on is going to slip and give way beneath your feet and you'll fall and break like the delicate skin and bones you are but god you act so tough you've almost deluded yourself into believing the lies you project.
You're worth more than this.
You're worth more than this.
You deserve more than this and I know you said sorry but my heart still breaks.
Why did you change like the tides
Why did I open the doors to damnation for you ?
I still remember when you said the old you was dead. And she is. And it aches like this  because I miss her everyday .
You've no right to say you still care and wreck me like this.
It's so difficult  to take care of someone so fickle.
It hurts to look at your face and I can't explain that and it hurts to think about you in ways I shouldn't and it hurts to have thought you changed only to realise that you became much worse.
Vacuousness isn't appealing on you.

Fine lines

I can remember not knowing what a headache feels like , asking my friend once if the throbbing in my head was one , triumphant I'd finally gotten a headache and I could understand.

I could never understand your nuances , 3 fucking revolutions over and your name is the drug that keeps my brain wanting more at 1 30 am. I've forgotten how to unlove  you because I got so busy getting so good at it and now everything you do crushes me and i can't undo the damage I've self inflicted ,can you not be so inconsistent,  you're eating my heart raw and inside out , all I am is a memory, and I'm tired of being forgotten by you.

Now you know how heartbreak tastes in your mouth , you breathe in the acid of absentia , you might as well set fire to your lungs, you wouldn't know the difference honey, you wouldn't know.

Why you should leave when they say "I'm busy "

You are constructed of your parents dreams and passion , an extraterrestrial intermingling of fate and coincidence , your existence is a gift to everyone's life you've touched and you aren't perfect or flawless.
But you don't need to be.
Walk away from people who dismiss your imperfections as flaws instead of acknowledging them as unique manifestations of an individual existence .

Walk away from people who make you feel like you're missing a limb or a spark or something that makes you interesting enough to hold their curiosity, you are not created as entertainment for the masses , your existence was never intended to please any mere earthling , you are an amalgamation of everything you believe in and everything that you do , you are too damn precious for someone to not be able to make time for you.
Walk away from someone that isn't in awe of your absolute magic.
Walk away from people who aren't committed to unconditional love.
Walk away from people who are too "busy " to acknowledge the miracle that you are.

Santa Monica

Find her in the wrecked ship she passes off for a heart , find her when she's sleeping alone in the house she cannot call a home , find her in alleys behind parked cars, in between the cigarettes you hate , find the dreams she drowned in the bottom of a jack Daniels on the way to yet another party full of faces  she doesn't recognise , men she doesn't know brushing up against her , their perfume too strong against her marijuana soaked memories of you , find her when she's sober, look her in the eyes and see if to still recognise the girl you called your friend. Find her behind eyeliner that is too harsh against the ebony of her skin , behind the walls she has built with broken bones , find her behind the facades she has constructed , find her on her way to drown her sins in the sea,take her home. 

Find her stumbling drunk , clutching the sink like a drowning man would reeds , holding her hand to her throat , puking put the poison last night chose to force feed her, find her when her demons are ripping her limbs apart , find her blades and protect her wrists from her fanatic attempts , save her from the chaos of her mind at 2 am when you're clinging to pills to escape the pain of seeing her shipwrecked lungs zoom in on you and call it home ,save her from the blind instincts to turn to people who would eat her raw and bleed her dry , save her from the burning in your heart when you look back and find she's found a safe house and it doesn't include you.

I wish we all could make it

On Thursdays we wear sadness like  a suffocating cloak that threatens to put out the light of our very existence . I've crossed oceans to be able to stand here and the ground is giving way to my feet and no face looks familiar except that of death .
I've left promises I've broken to myself under my feet as I'm walking away from them,breathing in the smoke of burnt perseverance , I've lost the road on the way home , and it's raining uncertainty and clouded with a chance of corrosive heartbreak , didn't I tell you not to break down my walls,  they were to keep my demons from devouring the earth after tasting my soul and declaring it dead. Didn't I tell you the girl with the copper skin will tear away your resistance,  didn't I tell you sin would consume you, didn't I tell you to forget her and the poison she made you eat and called it love. Don't save me sugar , there's no saving the dead.

Promises don't have expiry dates.

She can't tell me the ocean doesn't want to swallow me and I don't need to breathe but I've dreamt of destruction , I've made it my fate with my fingertips , I've refused to let this sadness eat me whole and so it has broken me down before devouring me piece by piece

Tell me why she won't look me in the eyes, do they reflect so blindingly everything she's lost 4 years and three heartbreaks  ago? She pushes me out and I'm left with her perfume and the memory of a summer day bright in my mind when her skin was warm and her face glowed with innocence. We've come a long way from home honey and I've lost my tears to the world that has bled me dry and you've lost your faith but we didn't have to lose each other , not like this.

The paper crinkles against my cheek , and I wake up in starts, I exist but to dream of her lately , it seems, a few thousand miles away, my best friend's getting married and I can't hold her hand and it breaks me a little inside, California is light years away and I'm typing congratulations when my heart breaks for the fourth time.

I've heard someone say that in what they've seen of life , it can only be said that it goes on, and some find that comforting but God sometimes I wish it didn't. That I could put a stop to this earth spinning and time winding years and distance between us and never truly letting us be who we once were.  Her promises were empty , my declarations of love magnified  but I'm here waiting , till time eats me alive .

The big black nothing

But have you counted the poisoned arrows that flew from then venom between her jaws , I've given up on the road to normalcy when her heart was lade bare in front of me and all that it beat out was hate , I've counted blades and silently swallowed them to protect myself from the screams tearing out of my lungs.

A violation, of the common code friendships hold, I've scarred myself walking on coals, bending backwards through the fire and trying to stay alive, I've let go of lifeboats and oxygen masks, all I need to survive is the truth, and when it hit me with force of a point four bullet , I bit my tongue. I'd rather live for the truth than love a liar and you were a fantasy built on bullshit , and when you succumbed to the strings of honesty , it did not hurt to watch your act fall apart .

I am intoxicated by my pain and she was drunk on love and we
were
a
mistake

I'm sorry I'm this weak but I've got her name on my brain and her voice in my lungs , I can remember everything she said to this day , and I can remember when she stopped saying anything at all.

One day you'll be hung over from all the poisonous mistakes you inhaled and when you're dangling on the edge puking your guts out , corroded from all the toxins they fed you, bittersweet broken promises and empty nothings , you will find God and let him take away the pain

Is square one to be my destiny forever ?

I shut my eyes against these blatant untruths , I swear when he looks at me I can count the stars strewn across his eyes , every dream he gave up on etched in the lines on his forehead , his disappointment flooding this room with a sadness so thick you could suffocate in it. his eyes are weakened,  staring at the computer screen, he almost forgets to not let me see him limp , he breaks my heart every time he gets on a flight to leave again.

I've walked this empty road with bleeding soles only to end up in hell  ,  the demons are alive and playing with my mind again,the walls threaten to envelop me and the fight has drained out of my fists, does the sea complain about always returning to the same shore? Does the sky weep for all the children it returns to the sea, is there a story that ends in anything but death ?

Will these questions ever really stop spinning around in sickening circles in my head, will I ever see her face again? Don't let slip those  honey sweet words from your charismatic mouth and charm me out of mind again , I'm begging you .

Nobody ever tells you how lonely it gets trying to stay alive , and honey I could cup your face in my hands and lie to you just as easily as they lied to me when they said I'll survive , but I have too much poison spilling out of me from all the toxic people I've made the mistake of loving .

Don't trust the people who claim to love you , promises won't make the pain of their absence any easier when they end up leaving , and they always do

Pain should be stashed where no one can reach it

Hello there , old friend. Smoke screens and coffee steam and two screens separate this voluntary virtual meeting between us . Let us proceed to have yet another empty conversation where our words are pregnant with insinuations and we care more than we know we should and yet we let on nothing in this nonchalant exchange of nonsensical pleasantries. The word we really want to and need to speak are dancing underneath our tongues as our fingertips slide underneath letters . Here's everything I wanted to say to you and I never really will.
I wish we used to be the kind of friends we were five years ago , I wish you'd pick up when I called, I wish you'd text back and not shut me out , I wish what I did to save myself didn't break you till you wanted nothing to do with me.
Have a wonderful birthday , I wish you were spending it with me.

I don't know where I belong , but I know that this is not it.

What if we are all just one breath away from being the true sum of insanity and passion that we really are,  when circumstances take a knife to the masks we wear so often , spilling blood and ego and character in its truest , naked form, lying supine and vulnerable to the mockery time makes of us , the fluctuations between animalistic desire and spiritual submission , the absolutely wildly lonely crossroads between the nafs and the rūh where nothing promises to save you except the tragedies that He taught you the truth by.

nicotine and dead men

It's been too long trying to figure out how this stands but I think I've done it I'd call you to confirm it but you probably wouldn't pick up and maybe I'll just call to listen to your voice and maybe I can tell if your breath still sounds like it used to when you were asleep and anyway here's the thing I figured you thought you loved me and I believed I loved you but the devil fucked us both and I think he's the only one who enjoyed

any of it

You're the fever in my veins , a pulsating sickness I cannot change and I am sick in so many ways and ignoring the cure maybe pleading for a spiritual death

But you're 700 miles away chained to your cigarettes and women and I think of your heart every time they show us a smoker's lungs in forensic medicine and I chase morphine into my veins to eradicate the pain but apparently it doesn't work on the brain

And I'm still here choking on your name everytime someone brings it up and wondering what a drink would taste like and if it would really make me forget you and wondering if that's why you put the poison in your mouth in the first place, to make it "all go away "

If you don't have a heart , can you ever find home ?

My lips are stained with yesterday's sins and my mind winds itself around these unread tracks , the words I've counted on fingers, and remained forever unsaid, I've let her slip through yet again and I've only to wonder if this sort of callousness is but consistent with my nature , the one I'm battling with every breath , I am forever between a prayer and a sin.
But I've called up this number, is it still yours, I'm in town again and I cannot help but remember how the summer air tasted when you breathed in it and do you want to see me ever again?

I've carved company in coffee shops between pages and crumpled receipts,  in airport lounges and between bus stations, shutting my eyes in traffic jams and counting down days to a travel date as I move between my family and heart with a war torn soul. I can feel the earth moving beneath my feet and time stealing everything everything everything from this inconsistency I have chosen to fashion into a life.

We don't get to choose our battles, we only get to pick the armour we fight them in.

But you invoke an emptiness in me I wouldn't have known but for you and now it's too late for you to leave and too painful for you to stay and he falls silent I'm a mess and they say I'm the sane one but if you'd looked closer I'd stopped counting down the days to travel dates and starting counting down the days to death instead, baby I'm made of firewood and you've lit the match , a burning desire for intense self destruction and here I am scheduling the date I will bury  my head  under the water after I've stained the bathroom tiles red with the blood from my throat, why didn't you leave , why didn't you stay , I guess it's too late either way but when you see that I've finally forgotten how to stay sane , please don't patronise me by saying you still care.

55.

We fell into temptations under the starlit skies , I loved the streets in this place and how the black tar shone back at you when you were dreaming of leaving and swearing you'd make it big in the big city,who would've thought 2 am in the Cold you'd be wrapping your fingers around your mug and trying to find the taste of home in tea leaves but nothing felt right if you couldn't hear your dad breathe in the next room and maybe next time we won't be so eager to run away when we had it so good and we were too caught up in June to realise the year was gone and we were still canvassing the skies for meaning , and trying to convince that being unable to see the stars back home was reason enough to leave . Tracing our steps back because time never let us off easy , and maybe we were fools to run away when we were only ever running towards fate, we were too busy impaling our futures against the plans our parents had for us and comparing our life plans to others to ever be grateful for the sun and and blue sky we lived under which wasn't obliterated by smoke from bombs and ashes of destruction and we were far to absorbed in comparing our shoes and trinkets to the kids next door and we forgot to say thank you dear god in heaven that my family is alive and safe and home isn't just a memory ,it's a place and it is so very untouched and safe.

Barbiturates and bravery

I do not understand the metal men with painted arms whose pictures she likes to display , I do not understand why my heart loses track of time and my breath catches when her name is mentioned , I envy the thickness of her hair while reminding myself that I am not just my deficiencies wrapped up in black and there is so much more to the depths of this sky than the stars that take up their places too brightly too unmoving and resistant, I do not understand my need to apologise , I do not understand why I think this will survive , why I like to believe I will survive this and the sadness in the universe won't just consume me whole in a bottle of barbiturates , in a deliberate carelessness , in a wish for escape on stars that were dead . I cannot understand why my hands shiver when I reach for the bottle after everything I've had to apologise for and a while longer wasn't nearly short enough for this soul , atleast not in this world and I will breathe the last exhale of resigned release,  I'll fall softly to this marble floor , it will caress the limp hands I used to count blessings with in its cool embrace and it will reflect the blood that drains out of eyes that were too tired to fight back and too tired to live and maybe survival was never about how easily we lived , maybe it was about how happily we welcomed leaving life behind .

Do not make homes out of people who cut the life out of you with words like razor blades , do not make homes out of memories , do not make home out of out of photographs , do not mistake pain for honesty , and do not think that everyone who wears his heart on his sleeve is going to treat you like you're priceless, do not mistake scars for bravery , do not make the mistake of believing people are capable of saving themselves let alone saving you from the emptiness of your soul .

Trembling behind smokescreens

Please still stay in the middle of night when my skin is broken open to reveal craters deeper than on the moon and my ribs have cracked and scars are spilling out from under the seams and you find me choking on the acid from her mouth and I'm filled with  either words or tears and I can make sense of neither; please still be there when the sky refuses to be blue and sucks everything into the depths of its blackness, when the world is clawing at me for all its worth to try to get me to give up when the scars aren't just marks but memories branded and burnt into the skin of time , time that never healed and never lets  me forget , please still be there when the last laugh has died and turned into the ghosts  of sobs that no one ever heard except the emptiness of the world you left to when your heart stopped  because your lungs refused air , please still be there when I am a shadow of myself,  I have watched her love a grave instead of a person , when the stench of disinfectant and desperation hit her like a slap in the face in the cold  white hospital corridor, the only words she would remember were "it's too late,it's too late, it's too late."

"I'm just trying to let go gracefully now "

An age after I saw the sun dance in your hair and your smile light up the sky I'm still barefoot in the desert of time and wondering why. But I'm past reminiscing, past longing, past resentment, or grudge bearing, I'm past wishing for more and contradicting faith , I am no one to erase what was destined to break by time itself , and maybe I was Jupiter's moon in the galaxy of your eyes and you were my sun disguised under human skin and maybe we were inevitable , but we are most certainly not meant to be. And maybe you'll remember me when the wrinkles are etched around your eyes like sharp memories of unhappier  times and maybe I will blur the darkness in your mind in a split second whirlwind of light before I return to the remnants of your past where I'll faithfully take up place , having learnt that resistance will never change fate,  but agonise the bones within my flesh. And maybe I'll light up the universe in your dreams in the few seconds before the sun starts you awake and maybe my brain will never stop playing with your name and maybe my dawn will never kiss  your stars goodbye and we will drift on the tides of time further and further away. And this time I'll make sure not to swim against the currents of destiny  but let them take me ,even if they take me away from you and drown me , I have learn to let go without burning my fingers and I will forever be grateful for this, "I have learnt to love God, it is to live in his Kingdom and call nothing mine."

There is silence in understanding and most of it is because of grief choked inability to speak.

I'm in the middle of transcending into the chorus of the song my soul insists on singing to me in the middle of the night,
My fingertips dry and my brain runs out of ink
my blood runs out of liquid  hate
My subconscious grows tired of enduring my lust and I grow weary of longing for death
I cannot write like I used to
The words on the page shudder and gasp

breathing their last

I wake up clothed in sweat and dreams. The enchantment of the illusion you were, baby.
It was beautiful because it wasn't real
I remember with vivid detail what I shouldn't dwell on
I breathe in the perspiration of your memories , I have
tried unwinding this track; my brain
was not meant for reclining 
And you were not meant to be forgotten
Atleast not by me and I am rapidly becoming a patchwork of crusty memories salted with tears that are too old to be eaten and to heartbreaking to be remembered by me, at this night 2 am  alone.
I want you to know that I waited the twentieth anniversary of the day I was born going against my principles and resigning to heartbreak when I resolved to wait till the next 12 o clock for the person who never cared.
I want her naked heart winding around the songs my listless soul has sung for her I want her
to wake up to a gaping void where I used to be and above everything I want her to regret letting go of me
And above everything and that I want to not miss her like I still love her.

Oblivion beckons

She loved mysteries and so she became one -John Green

What if in the pursuit of making art , in the  wild chase through the woods of burning feelings into paper and calling it poetry, of making the world weep like you wept, in hot pursuit of burning scars like copycat marks into every soul that chanced on a collision course with you, you were turning into the ashes of the mistakes you made but you were too busy searching for paper to record them to realise it ? What if in the eternal drive to make something beautiful out of the mess her world had spiralled into , she failed to realise as her being tore at the seams and spilled her insides to the world that never dared to care and never had , what if the chase for unconditional love slanted her limbs into a twisted destruction of the girl she once was , a ghost flitting through the walls that caged her memories and her demons and eventually it didn't matter which was which because she couldn't tell the difference or didn't want to, it was all the same when the world blacked out into an ocean that was bent on swallowing you and you were broken boned and drunk on the waves of life, trying to stay afloat and stay alive, and there was no light to cling to,no call to save the day , no ex best friend that thought to catch up this particular night, when you longer found being alive as attractive as the alternative , when breathing fire into your tired lungs seemed easier than the air the world was reluctant to give you, what if the during the fight , you began to forget about winning because after everything you lost, losing yourself didn't seem like such a bad idea either.