I am a writer.

I am a writer in search of poetry 

I am a writer coping with my syndrome

I am a writer with a liberating tattoo on my ankle

I am a writer attempting to finish my previous poetry

I am a writer wide awake at 2:05 am with a heavy heart and black ink

I am a writer with dehydrated lips and a croaky voice 

I am a writer sitting in a library with a bottle of sula 

I am a writer with broken relationships and average vocabulary

I am a writer that likes blueberry jam in between oat biscuits
Maybe, I am not a writer 

Maybe, I am a drunkard with unsettling things to say to you

Maybe, I’ll tickle your spine a little and kiss your earlobe

Maybe, I’ll ask you to come visit me sometime

Maybe, I’ll pour you some scotch and show my paintings to you 

Maybe, I’ll sharpen my knife and pluck a few lilies for you 
Maybe, I am not a writer 

Maybe, I am a drunkard with thoughts of ruining you in the most beautiful ways. 

 

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7:03 pm

At 7:03 pm it dawned on me how my illness had been eating you away;

How no longer I could cook your favourite meal for you;

That it was not only I who was suffering;

lately I’ve been drowning in self pity that I forgot to make your coffee with extra chocolate on top of it;

I’ve been negligent to how you never complaint about how this has been breaking you;

You don’t tell me about how you dodge golf sessions with your colleagues;

It aches me when I hear you tiptoe at 4am because you can’t sleep and watch you light a cigarette because that’s always been your way out;

I became oblivious to the fact that I need to be strong and help myself ; I became selfish

You made my illness, our illness;

At 7:03 pm, I decided to get dressed for you; I’ve cooked your favourite meal;

9:00pm, I heard your footsteps and ran towards the door;

I opened the door and there you were, holding a bunch of orchids like any other day;

I distinctly remember the look in your eyes when you saw me at the door;

We ate and spoke and laughed all night long; I’d forgotten the sound of your laughter and how it was capable of easing my pain;

That evening, I fell in love with you all over again.

Tell me

“Tell me what lies in your heart

I may shelter in abyss
long enough to turn a fossil

Tell me now or save my fossil
and remorse my extinction .”

Would you?

I’ll sleep my demons under the light
of your soul;
lend me a hand after i sleep them to
death;
I’ll exhale a heavy sigh and tell you
i feel empty;
let your fist through my chest and
stir some magic.

Selfish

When i find it hard to breathe; come pat my back
When i light the last cigarette of my pack; smoke with me
When i fail to reason with you; look into my eyes
When i praise winter over autumn; don’t be harsh
When i smile and wave at the kid across the street; wave your hand along
When i sit in front of the fire at 4AM; lend me your sweater and your shoulder if you must
When i ask you for a dance; kiss my forehead and match my steps
When i confess my evils; seek my angels
I’m a selfish wreck, I’ll touch your lips and
scar your heart.

A whore.

You were there for the night,
But, i was there for eternity
You filled me and then left
with your clothes,
My job was to entertain you
But, i fell for you,
It’s not your fault,
I failed at my job,
I should’ve known I’m a body
entitled to entertain,
My depths will remain uncertain,
If only you would’ve spoken
to me and not my curves,
If only i could chase you and
tell you, about our night together
But, I should’ve known I’m a
body entitled to entertain,
It’s not your fault,
But, I, who failed at my job.

Good-bye

Do you remember the bitter goodbye
The bitter goodbye
Nobody blames us,
It was the time that didn’t work for us
Otherwise,
I was happy jumping into water puddles
with you
I was happy eating flavoured ice under
the scorching sun with you
I made memories with you
I learnt you and you learnt me,
It was just the time that has to be blamed
Our eternity ended too soon,
I wish i could go back and feel things twice,
Like, when we laughed until our stomach ached
Like, the way you made me feel
Like, how we didn’t want the clock to tick by
Like, the endless good times we had together
Do you remember us the way i do?
Was it for the good?, we won’t know
It was indeed a bitter, Goodbye.

My goddess.

But darling, this is your skin
You’re my goddess,
I worship the scars drawn
all over you,
My drunk self would still
kiss your skin like a child,
You’re my goddess,
Even if your lips run out
of the soft cherries,
And your body is dehydrated
and dry,
I see what you don’t see,
I will love you, water you,
You’re my goddess.

Call me maybe?

You came by the door
But did you knock twice
and call my name?
Or was it the plethora
of our memories that
hauled you to my doorstep
My worn eyes seeked
the beauty of your vice ; still
But did you knock twice?
I watched you walk away,
I was there, by the window waiting
for you to call my name,
But did you call my name?
It remains as sad as it could be
That,
I stood on the other side of the door
and, you came by the door
yet you did not call my name.

45th anniversary

It was our 45th anniversary,
I asked her to get dressed nicely
Although, I knew she might not
be able to,
I was waiting for her “be there
in five” to get over, She came after twenty,
But you know? It was worth it,
45 years of togetherness and
she still manages to surprise me,
She looked so beautiful,
Like the very first day i saw her
The memory, is till so fresh
like it was yesterday,
I remember her hair falling onto
her cheek while she spoke
and how she moved them back
with those little fair fingers,
I remember how her horse-like laugh
was a lullaby to me,
I remember every single detail
of this woman, like my own
And even though, I get mad at her
for speaking just like a two year old
I secretly don’t want her to shut up,
45 years of togetherness,
And she’s still as beautiful, I did good.
Oh, and the evening? just like the
old times, cheers.