When I look out, all I see is you.
When you look out, all you see is you.
It's about time we changed position, don't you think?
I’ve wasted so many eyelashes wishing for you.
Now that you’re here,
I want them back.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Shed
Wanna know what my favorite button is?
I’ll tell you.
Delete.
I love it.
It melts like cotton candy in my mouth.
It is also the most delusional button ever invented.
So,
I send someone, anyone, a message, filled with pent up love or anger or waaay too much emotion for anyone of my..caliber..and all that jazz.
And then
Ohfuckgpoihrwpewknr I realize that *sighs* I shouldn’t have.
So,
Tada
Delete.
Gone
*poof*
Disappears
And I sit back and bask in the glow of pretending That never happened and I never felt like that and no one else knows I feel like that anyway. *smirks*
Catch?
You’ve gotten the message.
Delete doesn’t change a thing,
Except the skin of the voice in my head.
Smoke and mirrors never proved anything.
But then again, I’ve always been a huge fan of my reflection.
Haven’t I?
I’ll tell you.
Delete.
I love it.
It melts like cotton candy in my mouth.
It is also the most delusional button ever invented.
So,
I send someone, anyone, a message, filled with pent up love or anger or waaay too much emotion for anyone of my..caliber..and all that jazz.
And then
Ohfuckgpoihrwpewknr I realize that *sighs* I shouldn’t have.
So,
Tada
Delete.
Gone
*poof*
Disappears
And I sit back and bask in the glow of pretending That never happened and I never felt like that and no one else knows I feel like that anyway. *smirks*
Catch?
You’ve gotten the message.
Delete doesn’t change a thing,
Except the skin of the voice in my head.
Smoke and mirrors never proved anything.
But then again, I’ve always been a huge fan of my reflection.
Haven’t I?
Friday, June 13, 2008
S@#$%R
Beautiful scars on the back of my hand spell out everything I’ve left behind as I watch you saunter before me and I walk the line you leave, strewn with thorns and blistered feet. But always, I chicken out and go back to the well worn dusty face in a crowd path that the world has stripped of its dignity.
I’ve turned away from you, often, but not intentionally.
More so because I hate seeing a constant mirror of myself when I’ve always thought me to be ugly.
Beautiful scars maybe, but ugly.
And as I smirk at the way you’ve started walking on air, dreaming in the world you created while reality batters at your window in all its cruelty,
I realize, that I envy you.
I envy your ability to fight for what you don’t want.
I watch them, the Others, and I hear what they have to say.
And the line between what they expect of me and what I expect of myself has become so blurred that by the time I grasp that I’m playing for their team, it’s too late.
I’m in.
But you?
You’re sitting in the stands and pointing and laughing.
I envy you.
Even though, I know, I’m the one with the trophy.
I’ve turned away from you, often, but not intentionally.
More so because I hate seeing a constant mirror of myself when I’ve always thought me to be ugly.
Beautiful scars maybe, but ugly.
And as I smirk at the way you’ve started walking on air, dreaming in the world you created while reality batters at your window in all its cruelty,
I realize, that I envy you.
I envy your ability to fight for what you don’t want.
I watch them, the Others, and I hear what they have to say.
And the line between what they expect of me and what I expect of myself has become so blurred that by the time I grasp that I’m playing for their team, it’s too late.
I’m in.
But you?
You’re sitting in the stands and pointing and laughing.
I envy you.
Even though, I know, I’m the one with the trophy.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
The opposit of Chocolate ~
She sat at the edge of the river, watching it glisten and bubble in the moonlight.
Her tears held her together as she traced shadows in the dark.
She hadn’t meant for it to happen.
Best friends!
He’d been there for her through her first heartbreak, held her hand through football tryouts and drama auditions, stayed with her over the phone every night when she realized she was scared of the dark, convinced her that the words ‘slut’ and ‘normal’ were relative, helped her write the Toast when her father remarried, held her when she cried over shattered dreams…
And slowly and steadily she fell for him. Him, the class president, the football captain, the young prince.
And now,
“I’m in love with you”, his voice was hoarse.
They were sitting on her roof, their favorite place.
His tall broad shouldered easy frame was pacing around, his jet black hair flopped carelessly into green eyes, he was the boy the girls swooned over, she was the girl they hated.
She sat there, she, with her long purple hair, eyebrow piercing, fishnet stockings and leather jacket.
She, with the tears in her dark eyes and the black nails she’d chewed down to nothing.
She, who couldn’t do this.
Not to him.
Not to the boy she was ‘in love’ with.
She couldn’t bear to lose him.
She knew how it worked, this beautiful meaningless circle of deception.
And she refused to prolong it.
“I’m sorry”, she said listlessly. “I don’t think of you in that way, you’re my best friend, I can’t…I’m sorry.”
She heard him breathe in sharply, she longed to kiss him, to let him know that her shroud of deceit was clawing him into a corner, not her.
But that meant she would have to reduce herself to being one of many. Part of the ‘List’ she’d once helped him draw. And they’d Laughed at the number of girls he’d kissed.
"And when did That happen, Dev?"
"I don't remember. Her hair smelt of rain though."
The voices in her head hurled abuse at each other as she stared numbly at peeling black nails.
She’d bitten off more than she could chew.
Again.
“I’m in love with you Naini”, he repeated hoarsely, grabbing the bull by the horns, reaching out for her.
She flinched.
She shouldn’t have worn red today.
He carelessly pulled his hand back and ran it through spiky black hair. His smoky green eyes looked troubled as he stared intently at her lowered lashes.
“Naina”, he whispered, “Look at me.”
She shook her head.
“You do…care, don’t you?” he asked, his breathing jagged.
She almost laughed through the sobs simmering in her.
Care?
She cared.
She cared enough to know that his friendship mattered more than the taste of his lips.
She cared enough to know she’d rather be the one he leaned on than the one who lost her balance.
She cared enough to know that he didn’t deserve her temper and her tears and the way she pulled everything out from under their feet when they least expected it.
She cared enough to know that there had been many before her and there were many to come and she recoiled from being one of ‘them’.
She cared enough to know that her best friend had been ‘in love’ with him and still was.
She cared enough to know that sooner or later she would be forced to face heartbreak from the one person who mattered.
She cared enough not to shatter him herself.
She faced him.
He shone for her. He always had. And she had been blinded by his light.
“I’m sorry”, she said numbly.
The voices in her head screamed in chorus as she got up and walked away.
The wind murmured her name, calling her back.
But she didn’t sway.
She sauntered off into the shadows as he watched her fade.
I want you, but I chose darkness.
As the wind whispered it back to him,
The boy wept.
Her tears held her together as she traced shadows in the dark.
She hadn’t meant for it to happen.
Best friends!
He’d been there for her through her first heartbreak, held her hand through football tryouts and drama auditions, stayed with her over the phone every night when she realized she was scared of the dark, convinced her that the words ‘slut’ and ‘normal’ were relative, helped her write the Toast when her father remarried, held her when she cried over shattered dreams…
And slowly and steadily she fell for him. Him, the class president, the football captain, the young prince.
And now,
“I’m in love with you”, his voice was hoarse.
They were sitting on her roof, their favorite place.
His tall broad shouldered easy frame was pacing around, his jet black hair flopped carelessly into green eyes, he was the boy the girls swooned over, she was the girl they hated.
She sat there, she, with her long purple hair, eyebrow piercing, fishnet stockings and leather jacket.
She, with the tears in her dark eyes and the black nails she’d chewed down to nothing.
She, who couldn’t do this.
Not to him.
Not to the boy she was ‘in love’ with.
She couldn’t bear to lose him.
She knew how it worked, this beautiful meaningless circle of deception.
And she refused to prolong it.
“I’m sorry”, she said listlessly. “I don’t think of you in that way, you’re my best friend, I can’t…I’m sorry.”
She heard him breathe in sharply, she longed to kiss him, to let him know that her shroud of deceit was clawing him into a corner, not her.
But that meant she would have to reduce herself to being one of many. Part of the ‘List’ she’d once helped him draw. And they’d Laughed at the number of girls he’d kissed.
"And when did That happen, Dev?"
"I don't remember. Her hair smelt of rain though."
The voices in her head hurled abuse at each other as she stared numbly at peeling black nails.
She’d bitten off more than she could chew.
Again.
“I’m in love with you Naini”, he repeated hoarsely, grabbing the bull by the horns, reaching out for her.
She flinched.
She shouldn’t have worn red today.
He carelessly pulled his hand back and ran it through spiky black hair. His smoky green eyes looked troubled as he stared intently at her lowered lashes.
“Naina”, he whispered, “Look at me.”
She shook her head.
“You do…care, don’t you?” he asked, his breathing jagged.
She almost laughed through the sobs simmering in her.
Care?
She cared.
She cared enough to know that his friendship mattered more than the taste of his lips.
She cared enough to know she’d rather be the one he leaned on than the one who lost her balance.
She cared enough to know that he didn’t deserve her temper and her tears and the way she pulled everything out from under their feet when they least expected it.
She cared enough to know that there had been many before her and there were many to come and she recoiled from being one of ‘them’.
She cared enough to know that her best friend had been ‘in love’ with him and still was.
She cared enough to know that sooner or later she would be forced to face heartbreak from the one person who mattered.
She cared enough not to shatter him herself.
She faced him.
He shone for her. He always had. And she had been blinded by his light.
“I’m sorry”, she said numbly.
The voices in her head screamed in chorus as she got up and walked away.
The wind murmured her name, calling her back.
But she didn’t sway.
She sauntered off into the shadows as he watched her fade.
I want you, but I chose darkness.
As the wind whispered it back to him,
The boy wept.
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