The Soulful Atom

Insinuation,
Criminal,
Intoxication,
Incorrigible,
Irresistible,
Mad,
Bohemian,
Free-spirited,
Anger-personified,
Mean,
Rubbish,
Wary,
Naive,
Foolish,
Cruel,
In love,
and out of it..
Caring,
Flustered,
Flamboyant,
Manipulative,
Abusive,
Loud,
Cute,
Tender,
Me being my self
and then being yours..

A canvas lays ahead of her..
White and bright waiting..
She picks up her tools and paints..
Pictures and memories..
While increasingly marred with the same color within her soul
She darkens, with love, the same color..
Smiling away at the warmth and pain it brings..
And she paints at her canvas..
Rubbing and slashing until its torn
And can take no more..
She looks with tears at her canvas
that she pour over so much love..
It was torn now beyond control..
She went away for a while giving it a chance to recover,
but it refused..
For she gave up but it didn't..
The canvas of her life remained torn..
In peace..

Lost and powerless gulping the salty water around..
Words are drowned and don't even sprout beneath the salty frozen air..
As if i knew you in some other life time..
But strangers in this one..
I tried holding on to your face..
My nails dug deep..
blooding the beauty of your features..
And yet its only skin that is only nails now..
My colored nails..
The skin is mottled, and eyes are wet with flesh..
And the ravines feast on the once alive love in them..
The sit with their dirty feet and eat the same skin..
Maybe their mother taught them nothing..
Oh, but mine did..
As i try to remember where i had met you..
From memory which is now a foe..
Memory defies and all else fails..
I give up and just sit back down to nibble on the skin caught in my nails..
While the crows eat up the eyes..
Doe-y eyes, i remember something.. But again- memory is a foe..
They claw and tear.. till i am all dead and dry..

She beat her fingers at the drum's rhythm, lost.. while he drank her in.. Maybe she knew this too! He never witnessed a procession so closely, let alone be a part of it. But now he had done and continued to indulge in many things he had never imagined himself doing. He followed his heart now. He could feel his heart beating to the tune and eyes snapped open to stare deep into his. His stomach clenched, she laughed and it un-clenched. She continued to look around and occasionally smile or wave at an acquaintance. There was no one here who would know him.. Just like there was no one who knew her at that party, and yet she was so composed. Shit scared yet calm. He was very uncomfortable but warming up to the experience as his heart was thumping around. He remembered the impending war he was going to have to fight, but he dismissed it for now, felt his lips curl and a whistle blow. She looked back at him and gestured that they could leave. The procession was nearing the close and she wanted to sneak out with him. Though there was no on to stop her. "So, Mr.Sax get a tasteful of desi beats?" And the smile, always the teasing yet innocent smile, and the sparkle in her warm Oak-wood colored eyes that so haunted him when he was away. She clasped his hand very firmly. She did this often these days. It told him, no matter how hard she tried to make him feel she knew everything, she too was terribly scared. The war was on her mind too. Realizing she had done it again and shook her hand away.
While she started her bike talking about where to eat now, wrapping her colorful scarf on and he look away to the ebbing sounds of the processing and connoisseurs cheering in the distance..

He watched the light flickering on the chairs while he waited. Vehicles flashed past and the lights accompanied him. He waited here every evening knowing she will not come. The brown color of the wood reminded him of how her eyes sparkled when she smelled coffee beans. It didn't matter what blend they were. She never knew. He doubted she could even tell the difference between two distinct blends; but it didn't matter, she just loved coffee. The way she loved rain, no matter when it poured. Like it did in November this year. She enjoyed it as if it was the first rain of the year. When each drop engulfed every dry parched particle of the scorched earth in its embrace. The year was a blur, completely out of place for where he came from. Just like the lightening which shine across dark clouds gather at the horizon whereas where you stand the sun is shining brightly. As if the clouds too are mocking you.
He never thought of such things, never acknowledged rain more than a grimace and donning on rain gear. Forced himself to be engrossed in the world he had created for himself. A world he was led to believe was the ideal way to be. A world, the basis of which had disappeared now, and it only hung on one of the many thin wisps of smoke suspended in the thick air of his fears.
Another flash of light shook him out of his reverie, it was time to go home. Back to fake smiles and a heaviness that would be lifted only tomorrow at the same place.. Waiting seemed more joyful that anything his world had to offer.. Even if it brought pain..
Heavily he lifted himself off the wooden chair, and walked on, only to pause momentarily to caress the back of the chair sitting opposite him all this while..

I love typing..
And writing..
messing the plain canvas..
with my thoughts.. :)
<3

Learning to live..
All over again..
Life after death?
Or learning to live death..
It feels different,
Though very familiar
Fears coming true..
Like i said they would..
Alas..
Regret is all that remains for me..
Regret for things that took too long..
Regret for things that were not in my hands..
Regret.. colorful like the rainbow you promised..
Regret.. sharp like a shining star's stingy corner in my eye..
Regret.. warm like flowing blood..
Learning to live..
And otherwise..