traced

i am scared

i am scared because the songs are starting to make sense

and i see them living my dream

yet all i care about is the distance

 

the distance between me and my world

where i shall be myself and more

where my choices make my steps

and even my bad days will have stories i would adore

 

i am not ready

i am not ready because i have seen too far

i have been lost but not still beaten

yet i have felt my scars

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when she is broken

i love her when she is broken

when only her soul flows from her

all the shells crack, oozing her out of it

so much of it tied up inside, how, i wonder

 

she’d always be filled with stories

stories of her always in smiles

how bad or good they may be

her life is always the one i’d despise

 

i’d listen to all the words she would say

some real, some too made up, few as they were

these words would come in pieces though

even if we talked every day

 

every now and then she would remain off

silence screaming too loud for me to look in

look into her some how

but i’d wonder off, what would we have been

 

we would not even share words sometimes

loneliness felt like bliss

but she would tumble across my path

all the more of those scripts

 

and yet she’d be real once in a while

while chooses me to be there

the times when she is broken again

a bit of her soul she would share

 

i love her when she is broken

when every word sounds fair

i love her when she’s broken

when all of her is bare

 

every sound is true

with tears and hatred that flows

every emotion is blue

when her truest self glows

 

she breaks her heart and silence for too long

stops for a second to check on me

i say yes and it makes her strong

stronger than herself, more than her shell used to be

 

i love it when she falls

she cries out my name

calling me to be there

it does not feel the same

 

i would not lie, i had smiled

smiled with a selfish grin that i had a meaning

even when her hopes seemed to have died

i’d always be the one doing the grieving

love that I do not have

once in a while i see love that i dream of

sometimes they hold hands

and sometimes they just want to hold hands

they walk apart and yet their smiles meet

their eyes look out for one another in a crowd

dancing together, always up beat

what took you so long one would say

the other would smile and they’d hug

why are you late, one would ask

panting aloud, the other would shrug

once in a while, i listen to love that i imagine

the words one used to find the other

the songs one sang to let the other know

one moment at the least, they wished to have together

late night calls and anxious short notes

one by one the words fall

one by one silence drops

one by one it envelops them all

all those who end up alone

alone by the breeze that they yearn for warmth

looking for a spark they always never found

humming on this silent sound

once in a while, i find love that i feel

a little bit of blush that never heals

those butterflies they said, that never flew away

those nights they said, that always lasted days

once in a while i’d see love that i dread

the one i want to run away from

and like the light i’d spread

as dark as the sky before dawn

once in a while i’d see love that i’ve never seen

wondering around with it all the while

never knowing where my heart has always been

and then there is love i see

so sure that it will be

be as strong as one wants to give

as aloof as the other wants to believe

once in a while i loathe love

love of a kind everyone else would deserve

lost and bound in music of shame

oneself let down on other’s name

once in a while i see love that dream of

sometimes they hold hands

sometimes they want to hold hands

what is she

what does she walk with

her thoughts reach beyond mine

what does she look at

her sights seem to move beyond time

she stammers with her eyes

and her voice pushes me away

into something deep and dark

somewhere different everyday

what does she carry in her heart

it seems to have a soul of its own

taking her into a new place

old errands yet to be done

what is it that makes you weak

something that would melt you into me

where do i find an answer to you

what does the question need to be

last night

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and so i shall watch you leave today

and yearn for you to be back every night

my dreams they fly away

much too high, they fly out of my sight

i will answer your every call

if that night happen

in some distant dream when you would fall

i shall be there for you again

but this evening feels sadder,

its lonelier than before

i seek you in my heart again

but its there no more

may be it flew away, chasing your warmth it seems

may be its in a safer place, away from me that is

why is it that i run away,

every time through you i pass

why is it that i wonder you’d be back

even when you said, this night is our last

why is it that i want you to be back

even if i wished every night to be our last

what she did to you

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look at what she did to you,

you always feel in vain

just look at what she’s made of you,

you’ll never go back again

long nights are all to blame,

especially of the day dreams

the ecstasy of words came to life,

only a silver lining gleams

look at what you made of her,

she seems more real than your self

look at she did to you

you always feel in vain

when clocks ran faster, the night was dark

she was with you, but together the least

the end of which you would embark

a new path for her, your soul to feast

look at your shallow eyes, deep into some other place

a place without her a place without yourself

solitude becomes the key to a door never found

yet she still waits for you, follows you around

look at what she did to you

you still seem in pain

look at what she made you do

you still feel in vain

note

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There is a dust bin and water filter in the adjacent corners of a very narrow pantry. By narrow I actually mean narrow. One has to sit down to fill up a bottle. today is a big one so it takes time.

I don’t usually run my eyes through the bin’s contents but something caught my eyes this time: a piece of paper with words written on it.

I pick it up, take it to my desk and slip it into the drawer. With no one nearby, I flatten out the crumbled edges. A little smudged pencil written words read:

“there she stands,

with all that she is

and looks away for an instant

my only heart to please.

like a moon in the dark

subtle, calm, shiny and away

she hid her soul with someone else

it breaks me down till this day.”

The same note again next day. I hope she finds it soon.