Independence.

Our lives, they are a glimpse into what they called the jeopardy of a lifetime. We lost it all... when I laughed and you slept.

Our house, it is a well. They call it the potion of darkness. We lost it all... when I spoke and you stood still.

Our walls, they are the scrapped pieces of our love. They call it the light that led everyone to the wars. We lost it all... when I stripped and you stared.

Our hearts, they are the holes everyone wants to fall into. They call it the brutality of those two sperms that won the race of millions. We lost it all... when I died and so did you!

***

Now Playing: You've Changed | Bettie Serveert

Going, Going, Gone!

We had been lying beneath the sheets. My eyes were bloodshot; so were his. We had been drugged. Lithium. It was too cold to even feel my own limbs, leave alone feeling his.

He would always stare at me with those bloodshot eyes. Drought. Bare. Naked. And stark blank. The drug was too strong. It started killing him. Bit by bit. It changed him. It made maps on his body
 
His touch changed too. And then... I lost him.

I lost him.


****

P.S: Just deleted my first blog, Lithium, because every time I saw it, something bothered me. I couldn't figure out what.You should get rid of things when they become more than mere "things".

Now Playing: Say It Ain't So | MoZella.

---

Caught up in a moment
Of mere quietness,
Extinguishing every restlessness
Or just fueling the irresistible desire
Of crushing little cubes with words,
"Your mind is mute"?

Make Me Music.

Sing to me

The lines you once scribbled on the walls,

After the day we measured each other's veins...

The blue tracks on our wrists and ankles.

Sing to me

The verse you had whispered in December,

Just before the year left us behind...

And finger nails turning blue with erotics.

Sing to me.

Just this once.

Sing to me...

And I shall be redeemed

Of the crimson feathers,

The ill-fitting wish fulfillment,

And the urge to self destruct!

Sing to me

And make me your music.

***

Now Playing: Everything | Lifehouse

She.

She wrote poetry.
Complex words, twisted meanings
With strange voices, limbs.
She would sit for hours
On the busy street, amidst million lights
Wait for me, drop a tear or two
And then wrote poetry
About strange little butterflies,
Papers, baskets, and estranged seeds.
She would stare me for hours
In our bed, with glare in her eyes
Amidst the chaos of her mind
And softly say, "Don't leave me."
No reply from me upset her.
Waited for it for days,
Sometimes even months.
She wrote poetry.
It made her strange.
She forgot everything;
The creek, the clothes,
The little reminders of reality...
The chits on the wall,
My silence and her pity.
She wrote poetry.
It made her speak one day,
"I know you want to go."
It made her lose the tempo.
She forgot bidding me a goodbye.
She wrote poetry.
She wrote her journey,
Back and forth with me.
She wrote poetry,
Of losing the only one she had.
She wrote poetry,
Of all the things it made her lose.
Of all the things she lost.
Of the day she got lost.
She wrote poetry...
For me.

Now Playing: A Journey Of The Heart | Karunesh

P.S: It is one of my favourite songs.!