Our silences so loud
through the nights my insides cry and ears pain
try to bridge the miles between two sides of our bed
It'd go In vain
Two words exchanged and we feel tired of talking
as if we were talking incessantly for hours..
Like the nights of the winter that made us fall..
Didn't know it would come to be known as our downfall..
Our talks silly and animated like fake moans in a porn
Real people ain't like that,
That's just a talk for others
Strangers, friends, other couples around us;
a nudge, a kiss, a laugh.
We have learnt our parts so well by now
We are better at playing parts than playing reality
playing in playing out play to win play to pause to rewind to remind
playing to play a game, play love
Play fire make fire create causes for that very downfall..
during walking, or talking or thinking
During love, during those few minutes that make us pay for days n months.
We are acting all along,
Everything deja vu.
I could live this out with my eyes closed..
I could sail through your pinchy interrogation rounds
with headphones plugged in.
Fight a violent fight with u and win,
Even when we are asleep!
Maybe one day I'll say something so bitter that you will melt of mere anger.
Maybe one of these days.
High of love is gone it seems
behind left a hangover it ceases to go
Hangover as stubborn and black as charcoal stains on my four letter soul.
A smirk now, a howl then
Balance is eternal thirst unquenched
Pretend till you can
Laugh until I cry
Or laugh till I cry
Its all the same
The same routine car chase
'I didn't mean to harm you baby'
'oh but you did, right and feels as deliberate as it could'
Forget to feel feelings half the time
And other half goes overreacting, over analysing, crying.
Crying eyes out cause its not illegal
A figure rising out of a dark horizon...
am I not good enough?
are we done?
Brilliant!
ReplyDeletesometimes heart aches to acknowledge those tacit feelings hidden deep inside hoping its just a phase and will pass but in the process the feeling embraces pretence and dishonesty and shackles the freedom which is the core of any bond we share.
So just as those snuggles and kisses expresses our feelings these articulations don't mean any different and less intense.
It is a touchy one
ReplyDeleteIt really has the feeling in it and a girl mind in it.
it moved me for sure
Maybe you'll want to put a twitter icon to your blog. Just marked down this site, but I must do it manually. Just my suggestion.
ReplyDeleteYes, probably so it is
ReplyDeleteAnd with this setting that just sat in my head , so comfortably that it feels like that it has always been there. I along with you, not being people. Playing our characters so well.
ReplyDeleteI am I.
Because I am not you.
Vice Versa too.
You seem alive to me.
I hope I do too.
Entangled Raw Blotting Papers.
Like Entangled Raw Blotting Papers.
I have forgotten the sense of anybody else being here.
And I laugh about it.
For at this moment the coherence has packed its bags too.
And while moving closer to you.
Closer to your lips.
And for that moment that we are kissing.
Is something taking over this sense.
Like Entangled Raw Blotting Papers.
Undoing the colors we pretend.
It's not that I just need to talk . I crave for an exchange of a dialogue.
In the middle of this nowhere.
On this bench.
Also..
and while others did things to get a sense of themselves.
moving to know where they had been before.
the path they traced to give them a sense of the movement in the first place .
all they are really doing is lying to themselves.
everything out their, a projection of your head, yet they sense each other.
Somehow. He can talk to her, they can feel the difference.
What is this canvas where all our colors are collectively forming a shape. ?
And somehow all our names will sum up to a god ?
We don't know.
She looks into the mirror.
She knows she plays her character to well.
We do nothing.
We are the blurs on the 22nd street.
We are not a part of them.
'and to your right are the vague blurs of 22nd street'.
what is it about the blurs ?
and when they all stare , when he talks.
he looks at himself in sphere a many a time.
baffled he is.
realizing he's just an image in the mirror.
appearing again and again.
every single time.
and in our daily convergence.
I'll be your master
I'll be your god.
and those nights when the roads were empty.
there were just a few lights walking down.
We don't believe.. in people.
We really.
Don't want to be.. famous.