The enclosure.

I wrap my mouth

around your

words,

gently yet hastily,

and now,

my lips are stained

with ink,

that refuse to wash

away,

like the scars from

yesterday.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KGK6NwgSNtM

My book ‘Warm Delinquencies’ is available on Amazon for worldwide shipping.

You can order it here: http://bit.ly/2gnn6j9.

Eventually.

Eventually, we'll withdraw from

each other,

distance will drive a ridge

between us and no amount of

bridges can bring back what's lost,

for what's lost remains lost,

the traces of our presence will

fade,

there will be faint reminders when

we walk past the coffee shops we've

been to

or the places we've watched distasteful

movies at,

the aroma of freshly-baked bread and morning coffee

will be replaced with pungent odours of sulphur and past,

and eventually, someday, we'll lose each other,

we'll drift apart,

just like the clouds do before

a clear sky.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T-8vVY-IECk

My book ‘Warm Delinquencies’ is available on Amazon for worldwide shipping. To place an order, visit http://bit.ly/2gnn6j9.

I'm here.

Paint me in the hues of warmth,

swallow me like the Sun would

consume the Moon,

hold on to me like the sea does to

the shore,

trying hard to take everything the shore

has yet failing incorrigibly,

caress me like the Spring touches

the cherry trees,

the point is, I'm here for falling

and rising and lacking and

wanting,

the point is, I'm here for the

misery.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=52FBvP7z2LU

Relinquish.

I loved you

to the

point of vanity,

breaking the

thresholds of all

floodgates and inhibitions,

and now,

it refuses

to relinquish,

it merely and starkly

refuses.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4V3Mo61fJM

Labels and names.

"It's getting dark. I should probably leave."

"No, don't. Stay."

"I need to get home."

"We can order pizza."

"I have to leave."

"With your favourite toppings."

"Please, you need to understand."

"I won't stop you from eating it with ketchup."

"It's over."

"What's over?"

"Us."

"What us?"

"You know what I mean, whatever's between us."

"What do you mean?"

"We cannot do this any longer."

"I don't get it."

"Of course you do! You're just feigning ignorance."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah."

"One pizza won't hurt."

"You know we won't stop with the pizza. We'll hurt each other. That's what we do. That's what we always do. Eating a pizza or doing anything for that matter never remain as a simple task of doing."

"Then?"

"What then?"

"I want to know where you're going with this."

"I'm telling you we'll hurt each other. That's what we do."

"Nonono...that's what you do. That's what you always do. You always have this vapid urge to run from everything you feel strongly about. It's what you do. You drop things cold, mid-way and never look back."

"I'm just not looking for someone I can emotionally invest in."

"But do you ever?"

"It doesn't matter.

"It does. At least to me."

"I don't know why we have to run in circles about everything we do. Do you derive some kind of fun from this?"

"I just want to know."

"Know what?"

"What we were."

"Some kind of an unfinished business."

"Is that it?"

"Yeah, not everything needs labels and names, you know?"

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yzQ9VrnNQLQ

First home.

I wanted to name our first home

after us,

after our love,

luckily for me,

I had several options to pick from,

ugh...where do I begin?

what do you think of naming it

as 'erratic'?

or do you like the sound of

'wrecked'?

because we won't be the first in

the history of having a

wrecked home,

but then, what about 'pensive'?

I like pensive,

it sounds chic,

what do you think?

you don't have to make a choice

right away,

no, really,

there are more names I could

offer,

I can find better nouns

and adjectives,

but let me warn you,

nothing might sound

more right than

'bygone'.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FnzHOsiaJns

There's nothing.

I've been writing for days

about you

about us

about everything I struggled

to say

hoping my words will

move you

because I've heard that

words can melt rocks and hills

but after all these days

I realize

there's nothing that can truly

make you listen

to me,

really,

there's nothing

and now, I am out of

words too,

really,

I've nothing left to

say.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejG2NwA5Crg

Your absence.

Your absence was heavier than

your presence,

it bent me out of shape,

leaving me with an unsettling

emotion,

like how the remnants of previous

night's storm

bring down the leaves and the

flowers.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdIVP0ZjBv4

Souvenirs.

I've wasted far too many tears on

someone like you,

who refused to see the daylight in

my eyes,

who refused to shine even when

there were no storms

in the sight,

look at my arms,

my neck,

and perhaps my heart,

you've left far too many scars,

but after all these scars and bruises,

I still let you devour me in full,

see the problem is,

there will always be far too many tears and

far too many scars,

and we'll learn to call them far too many

souvenirs

when we shouldn't,

see the problem is, we still call them our

souvenirs,

when they just aren't.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UlF8eYNn6Uk

Things I Should Accept.

My mother often warned me that my imaginations were too overbearing,

and that I was setting myself up for several series of disappointments,

I assured her that my palms were filled with pixie dust and I blew it into the face of my dreams,

my fingers often traced me back to things that weren't good for me,

books that made me cry, movies that kept me awake in the nights and boys that mercilessly broke my heart,

but I was oddly satisfied

as I went through life with an unapologetic fervour,

I guess I was setting myself up for grand breakdowns and signed up for stories where I never belonged,

she asked me to play safe,

to be cautious and guard my heart,

lock it away from bad things and throw the key away,

instead, I cut my heart open,

loved with a love that was more than love,

bled through my words

built home between the could-bes and the should-bes,

and then, I stopped watering the plants in my balcony,

looks like my mother was right,

I dreamed of nurturing someone else's flowers by ignoring mine,

by opening doors at places where even Sun refused to shine.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3AtRBlRQ-I

Rooftop.

I sit on this barely lit rooftop, fiddling with my phone, wanting to tell you things, and holding myself back. I can see the city lights, and in that light, people walking in the comfort of their homes, lights being turned on and off in several rooms, men smoking under streetlights, and almost strangers getting drunk on heavy conversations of love and loss. I am here, but I am not here. I am at calm, but I am restless. I am ashore, but my mind is lost in tumultuous waves. Sometimes, struggles feel a lot like a dark tunnel or a dark alley. I'm talking about the ones that have no light at the end, and you don't feel infinite when you're crossing them. Ever wondered why it feels like this? I do, and I know I don't have to make this silly, pointless struggle as one of the central parts of my life's agenda. But this has turned pathological now and it has to go. At the moment, it's as messed up at this roof I'm sitting on, with broken pots, dying plants, old newspapers, and red mud strewed across the sides of the walking path. It's difficult walking here, but the view is worth all of this. Just like the struggle that's worth you.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uxTH8GZ4PC4

INTERLUDE.

Someday,

I might stop remembering the sound of your laugh,

I might stop knowing your scent,

I might stop smiling to the tone of your sleepy voice,

I might stop recollecting how sometimes your smile

doesn't reach your eyes,

I might stop telling you about my day in detail,

I might stop looking at your pictures and wonder

what you must be doing,

or what you must be reading,

or if you are writing one of your delightful little stories,

I might stop asking you absolutely anything,

I might stop having the urge to send you little notes,

I might even stop trying to read between the lines,

and then slowly, someday,

I might stop hurting when I learn to unlove you,

maybe I could,

maybe I should,

but till then,

you're all I think about.

Tune for tonight: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQeMxWjpr-Y