#inkstainredux

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[VII]

How did it come to this?

I used to lament your absence like I have been robbed of air, making my lungs ache beyond what words can ever possibly describe. Your words were my religion, breathing in gales that fill me, making me feel more alive than the minute before. Declarations of love, sleeping next to you, kissing, cooking meals together, scared of dying but smoking on balconies, making playlists... They were moments that shone in their simplicity.

So how, pray tell, did we end up like this?

All-day exchanges became a thing of the past. Going-to-work-and-going-home phone calls are painted in sepia, locked away in a trunk along with the smile on my lips and the glow in my eyes. My heart ached literally and figuratively and your shadow was all I had. Just a smidge of the person you once were.

What kind of a fool am I to dive in headfirst into a puddle?

What kind of a fool am I to keep trying to hold a hand that's not there in the first place?

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[I]

Crying with no tears

Held captive by her fears

A song in her ears

Hoping for salvation before the end of the year

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[III]

Buried in your neck

Lies the smell of my future

Quite a mystery

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These Days

I'm a little teacup, sitting on a cupboard, chipping away

Little by little, wasting away

My sheen, dulled

My handle, cold

Tucked away behind the fine chinas

A forgotten thing, scored and scarred

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You held out your hand and mine began to shiver. What does it mean to take your hand? Will you drag me along before I could even catch my breath, and run until everything's a blur?   Or will you pull me closer, put my face against the crook of your neck where I can inhale the scent of your love and your future, and whisper something so sweet into my ears,it will liquefy my patella? Or will we just stand there, face to face, seeing each other eye to eye, our hearts beating loudly inside our rib cages, wishing the world will stand still forever? What will the future bring if I hold your hand?

Worries

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Sometimes, it’s funny how we beg for people that we don’t deserve in our life, We demand for them like it’s our right, Their absence perceived as injustice

C.R.D.B. || Universe’s VIP

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VICIOUS CYCLE

VICIOUS and CYCLE; An adjective and a noun,

The first one beginning in the 3rd letter of the alphabet; The other, with the 22nd

Poles apart, smashed together to create destruction

Who was it?

That genius who tied up violence with repetition?

What series of events could have possibly happened to make these two combine,

And be used to describe this situation?

The situation that is you and me:

Starting a story so happy,

Weaving moments of beauty,

Until the palace collapsed, showing all the ugly,

With just a rope in between,

Pushed and pulled like we could still be something,

Like we could stop our hearts from dying,

And YES, we stopped ourselves from perishing,

Because you and me, we are running in each other's veins,

Meld together by time and the odd way that we inflict pain,

The words "I love you" no longer means the same,

Because these days, we kiss each other with the same amount of passion and disdain,

We grab each other in hate and lust,

Love, under the shadows that we cast

And there's a need to tear each other down,

But we pick our way through the rubbles, and build a brand new town

Then set each other on fire, only to kiss the ashes back to fire...

And the fire back to life

It's never-ending

An addiction

Indeed vicious.

Indeed a cycle.

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I will fit into whatever space you have for me. No demand will ever pass through my lips. You don't have to be anything, because what you are is a wonder too magnificent to resist. Your raw form is more than enough.

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