And then one day..

And then one day

  another

came before me

And took my standing whilst i

  witnessed

i

  felt

my legs give way

And then one day i

  knew

the butterflies had yielded

they felt laden by the weight

of my dreams

Kip i could not stoop and build’em

  up,

not again

There were only if’s and never

  can’s

And then one day

HE ceased to love and

  then

to care

HE went out looking anew

And

  never

came back, not to me

i left all vows at

the altar

And then one day

the bud in me withered before

i dared to bloom

i

eased and wilted

And then one day

the shades of purple altogether

  disappeared

And then one day

i CompromisED

And then one day

i finally roused

And found me

  Dead

.self.

‘an open book’, I’m not sure

But you say so!

Our tears can fill an ocean

And humour conceals our pain

Leo’s would know.

But why put up the pretence?

We fool all: yes.

But alas, to hurt ourselves

And we search for love

In all the wrong places

And ours is strong,

Fierce, but strong.

Yet, we pretend,

Love should announce itself,

For we stumble on our pride and ego.

Love nor friendship served on a platter

Yet thought of as

‘the silver – spooned’ ones’.

We want to break the ice.

But few can truly penetrate our shell.

Tomorrow we will awake

And flow through our normal routine:

We set out to do good

While the tables turn on us.

Where is karma?, I ask.

Don’t get me wrong

We still believe in sunshine

And that good will come our way

And we await that day

Quiet patience – loud silences.

Kings of our concrete jungle

Born to lead.

In the limelight, we shine bright

Blessed with talents we have to win.

We say it as we see it,

Impulsive we may be.

Sensitivity gets the most of us

Hence we wish to change the world

With our ‘Fool’s Paradise’ plans.

We will not change for you

For we believe in a little consistency

We seek warmth and truth

And believe in what’s right.

We want to change our destiny.

Don’t get us wrong,

Fall not for our facades!

Tough and lean on the exterior

And shrewd our minds,

Yet our tears can an ocean fill.

How many days do you feel like you're alone? 
and no one could possibly understand you? 

Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood. 

          – Ralph Waldo Emerson

everything is mangled.. my head is swerving
my world is pulled apart
with unheard promises un-kept
with his heart unkempt
no words are exchanged
and a life does not come to be
because he is not a man
he is a child

if iffity if..

"If wishes were horses,
baby, we'd ride into the sunset."

If only.

One of my fav poems of all time is Rudyard Kipling, but do not mistake the quote above to flow lucidly from Kipling's pen. 'If' was always there in the dark and lamentable phases in my life, to rethink what's going oh, so wrong.. I kept telling myself, if you can get through this..

"... which is more.. you'll be a (wo)Man, my son (can't completely rebuff the poet)."

xx

Closing in on nine..

Thought I'd put together a few of my bf's favourite things..
Drawing close to the nine's.. Can't believe it, on most days ;)


Knowing he'll love it already.. ;)

------------------------------------
xx 

Romance and peonies...

Some days I think I'm still a kid, trapped in some imaginary sitcom, my father always warned me about what 'FRIENDS' would do to me. He insisted I watch the news instead. I can never forget the way he'd fake-laugh when the audience on set (read laughter machine) would.

I tend to romanticize everything and figment-ize the future; what I could change, what could easily dispose of my current situation and start anew, be brand new. Be the me who is someone... else. That must sound absolutely delusional. When I wake up to another Sunday, I really want to wake up somewhere else, where everyday's a sight to take in, where having waffles soaked in nutella is not a sin and where ruins are only the good part of Grecian monuments. They say if you stand in front of the columns on an especially breezy day, the dead will tell you stories and their words will teach us the true meaning of life. Or maybe I'm romanticizing history. 
Okay, I am.


When I get married, I want peonies and candid snapshots and a first dance that's not awkward where the rest of the world just blurs away if only for a moment. I also want to wake up in Paris and go down to the cafe and sit in my regular spot and on a whim decide to hop a train to Bunol, in time for the festival. C'mon let me dream. What's wrong with a little romance?

I dare you to not love them   :)