A story of love that's cursed and blessed, smiling and weeping, but still alive.

"Tell me the story of how the sun loved the moon so much to die every night to let them breath"

"I will love you a thousand times, over and over again"

i. You were my start and my ending

When ambiguity is bathed in the lights of a near aurora, doubts evaporate from my belonging and freedom is unconditional to my desires that just won't ever find satisfaction.

when i opened my eyes and my lungs were filled with the gift of crimson stillness that burnt me and did not at the same time, i still remember the damp veil of imperfection that infilterated my numbness with a cold of sorrow– the same one i felt on my lips bleeding promises kissed by my nemesis

ii. if I could see you one last time

i touched my face of misery and every time i wished my light would swallow my being and penetrate my soul made of lies and pain and hurt, death was there just behind me, lurking as my shadow, burying me six feet underneath.

but then it dug me up and breathed existence into my lungs that wanted to give up and never inflate again; made my tears a tape record whose strings were not supposed to play from the beginning; fixed my collarbone that it broke itself with a slap on the back and a nod of expectation that pierced my soul again and again and again

iii. i wish you could be mine, but belong to yourself at the exact same time.

my eyes refused to meet the skies, calling upon a numerous lies, wishing and wishing but knowing somewhere inside how fragile and deceptive hope was

hope was a deceptor who lied and lied and still never tripped. it went straight for your heart at a speed of 60 miles/hr and clawed it out with a force; rivalling a thousand years misery. it claws and claws; until no more will is left and the body is shaking like a corpse of hopelessness

still my body remembers the scars that are now gone, for how could it ever forget the scars that are engraved in its soul? it was once the corpse and hope was laughing in its face. hope was laughing, and smiling and mocking it's bones– the same bones that cracked everytime the corpse cried.

it laughed and laughed and laughed– for every tear that dropped from its mirthless apathetic eyes gave the corpse feathers that were slaughtered before

it was your smile, that damned smile

I still remember, as clear as daylights,

as if I could ever forget,

the smile that destroyed

my entire being,

but filled it with so much life

at the same time.

You looked lost,

No, that's not the right word.

You looked broken.

Like you had just given up on life

But you know the most important part?

You looked like me.

My reflection staring into me.

iv. if only love had a tax and i was it's collector

i loved too much and got back a little too less. it hurt me once, twice and maybe a few hundred more times. i always chased shadows of perfection when my own soul was wailing for my attention

looks like the shadows don't appreciate being chased similar to my soul not appreciating being unloved– a similarity i never fancied

v. I think, together we can live.

but the point is, how do i love myself when i shine for darkness like a loon gone mad, drown and get high on the misery of people when my own jar is filled to brim waiting to overflow? how do i love myself when i am broken and bruised and empty

how do i live with myself when all i can see is an ocean across me, waves of sadness and stillness and mortality crashing continuously? it makes me drunk and hinges my hook to its feet; making me dance on my own broken song and crying for my poems performing ballads

how do i breathe?

all i crave is asphyxiation and sleep

vi. i was yours from the beginning

it's all a game at the ending. two broken souls gifted immortality, chalked up to coincidences and plastered mouths with a tape of similes.

we drown and drown and drown but our oxygen is never cut loose. we breathe and breathe and breathe but all we ever do is choke up on pain and misery

that's why I gave you what I never gave anyone before, a kiss that seeps inside all the hurt and pain, tying our threads for an eternal existence of living

vii. Love is rich with honey and venom

I concede, it has been cold here and my lips have been barren for many years, absent of another’s mouth upon my own. My bones have become brittle in the stagnancy of my waiting here.

And maybe it is the way my flesh burns in the presence of heartache, the way I’ve carved out every soft part of my being and hidden it here among the dirt. Just know I would dig every bit of me up for you, I would desecrate my own graves just to be with you, who lives still in your own quiet way.

viii. we have died and cried and smiled yet we stand everyday

when i see myself in the mirror i don't see a person looking back at me, i see a shadow staring into my soul searching for a part of me that is not yet broken and snapping it into two just like the rest of me.

ix. i can't be wrecked because i was never living. it was an existence from the start and will be so till the end.

❝ I wish your love did not asphyxiate me.

life is never what it was supposed to be. it twists and turns, so much so, until you can't recognise the way into its ambivalence, only to get lost in its vine claws of peril

x. When we leave, our traces will be left behind.

They meet in the end.

they always do.

even if it is for some clandestine stolen hugs.

even if it is for a warm hand on the back rubbing down for a second.

they meet

as they were always destined to for.

because they are them

two broken souls that healed.

not by themselves

but together.

"Together"

When ambiguity is bathed in the lights of a near aurora, doubts evaporate from my belonging and freedom is unconditional to my desires that just won't ever find satisfaction.

People by the alleys, friends sitting on the pier. Fading sun.

When you are in congruent silence, I find myself as an ever-present and never temporary friend.

I defragment you as the stranger that you are beyond the things that hammer my epiphany; a cacophony of voices dictating impulsive actions and considerations to my innocence of a colorless and frightened soul by the shades that exist in possibilities left unexplored.

At the seams of you blackened by the embers of every second ravaged by time like an indelible and uncontrollable fire, I await you through ashes and smoke. Among the temperatures that vie for dominance; I here, passing through half-open doors and gaps for the purpose, lying beyond the secrets you lie.

How could people believe in their own happiness?

We were alone, always alone.

And who would say that loneliness would be so merciless to those who don't share their sadness with someone else who understands?

"we meet and meet and we keep doing it again, until the day i get burnt or i drown them in my sorrow"