#foreveriscomposedofnows8

[foreveriscomposedofnows8]

You’re no longer in my orbit, and I have a feeling that I have ceased to exist in yours. Two uncharted journeys that had once coincided for a gentle respite now continue on, each to their own, each on their own. Last week, I tore up your letters, shredded them with my hands without so much as a last reading. They lay scattered on my bed like confetti, a muted celebration of my freedom; I had no idea the rank of poison that you were. I couldn’t see past the fog of your flowery words. In the end, they meant nothing at all. And I don’t even hate you, okay maybe I hate you just a little. You took years from me that I can never get back. You fucking took me at my most beautiful and let me wither in the shadow of your melancholy. I should have left, but I had set my roots down. It’s a flaw I suppose that I cannot leave anything without having seen it through. But you fucked me up, turned a hopeless romantic into a cautious cynic. Such that when he kisses me now with eyes closed, adoration and presence in every sigh, I keep my eyes open. Because fuck if anyone takes an iota of control away from me ever again. Do you always keep them open?, he smiles, and I have no answer. 

[foreveriscomposedofnows8]

This right here, it’s my fall from grace, isn’t it? Golden child no more; but instead free. And, unapologetically, the person that I always wanted to be. 

[foreveriscomposedofnows8]

No matter how well things seem to be progressing, I remind myself that I am, at all times, one moment shy of having everything spontaneously combust right in my face. Admittedly, it’s not a particularly warm thought; it constantly keeps me on my toes if anything. But fuck it’s much better than to be taken violently by surprise. And so even when I offer up my sunshine, I hold just a little bit of it in my clenched fist, just for myself. Just for the swaths of darkness. 

[foreveriscomposedofnows8]

I'm afraid of the newness of this, the effervescent shine, the way I am drawn in so hopelessly. Too many times, someone has walked away from me now. Not a second glance. Not a second thought...

[foreveriscomposedofnows8]

There are things inside me that want to see daylight. But I have neither the words, nor the knife, to carve them out.

[foreveriscomposedofnows8]

And so it grows

Since you've been gone I've grown my hair long. It catches in the wind like the notes of half-read sonnets and unfinished conversations It smells of frangipani against the ocean, and forgotten laughter. The darkness that you cradled is mirrored in the strands And when I tuck it behind my ears, my own fingers feel foreign Since you've been gone, I've grown my hair long And since then, always shorn it.

[foreveriscomposedofnows8]

Things that stick to the roof of your mind

There are certain things that one cannot forget. Sometimes its a breathtaking view or a word said in a certain slant of light. Or the feeling of feeling like things were meant to work out one way (and of course they did not). These things creep up and tap you on the shoulder in dreams, in crowds, and most often in the dark solitude of an over-wrought mind. And it passes, I suppose. Only to return once more. A cloud ever-present, a shadow just standing by.

[foreveriscomposedofnows8]

Up until I was about 4 years old, we used to live in the same house as my grandparents. And literally every little thing my sister and I did was considered the most amazing feat. They clapped every time I recited “I’m a little teapot” and I did that a lot...I remember once I took all the toys out of a toy basket and climbed in it myself and I swear they were so wowed by it, it was like I was the smartest kid they had ever seen- pure genius. I had just climbed into a wicker basket and that was enough. I miss those days, life wasn’t a contest. It was simple, I was enough.