Undone.
Incomplete.
Something missing.
We think we are pieces of a puzzle,
You and I.
Faith.
Hope.
The last of our expectations.
immersed in the notion of something
that will fulfill us.
We are so intrigued with this idea
of someone
Completing us.
Healing us.
Filling us.
Sometimes I wonder…
Maybe we were born whole,
not nuts and bolts.
not a jigsaw puzzle.
nothing missing.
It holds you in its arms
Cradles you, caresses you.
Mistake it not for warmth,
for Grief is an ocean
Vast. Deep. Relentless.
Somebody, everybody and nobody
All have grief in common,
for grief spares none.
I wear it differently
It looks unrecognisable on you.
Grievance is for the dead,
was a lesson taught in school
oh but there is more to it
grief is for change, loss and being
is a lesson taught by life.
Tides and currents run wild
in its unfathomable waves
it comes to everyone
in its own time
and knocks you off your feet.
There is no running, no escaping.
When it hurts to even breathe
remember that it changes on a dime
one day, impossibly, it won’t hurt this bad
that’s how you survive.
I think I’m past it
alas it strikes again, starts again.
you can not control it,
let it in when it comes, feel it
let go of it, when you can
There are names playing on its lips,
My name. Your name.
Do you hear it?
All things that begin
must come
to an inevitable end.
A cry of distress,
in an unfamiliar world
and hence begins life.
Some live for a 100 years
without being alive
for even
a second of it.
We are our own undoing.
Blessing or tragedy?
Stop and smell the roses,
they say.
Maybe I should
become that rose
and carry that beauty
within me.
I wish to forge
my own path.
Untethered, free and wild.
Liberated from this worldly cage,
and when Death finally finds me
may it find me alive.
The other day, I came across an African proverb : “When death comes to find you, may it find you alive.”
We spend a lot of our lives being held back by trying to become what we think others expect us to be. We let ourselves be trapped in a cage.
Our soul knows what it wants. At this very moment, it’s speaking to you. Listen. Then go do it, grab it, live it.
Something went wrong with my WP a few days ago, and this got posted before I was done editing it. I removed it as soon as it happened, but a few of you had already read it and left comments. I’m sorry I had to delete that post because it just wasn’t ready. This is the final and improved version!
The “what ifs,” the “could have beens”
cloud my thoughts and actions.
Forevermore.
They’d come back, I was told
to haunt me.
Regrets.
I go back in time
I choose differently this time.
Another chance.
I live in the past
The present drifts away.
Another mistake.
Now I am thinking
about “what was but will never again be”
Torment.
To have something
only to lose it.
Tragic.
My heart’s greatest desire
Became ghosts in the shadows.
Irony.
what hurts more
“what ifs” or “what weres”
Another question.
The past is a deadly place to live in
I wish I could tell my younger self.
A warning.
Lessons I learn, consequences I face
Forward, I hope I move.
Forevermore.
1. She looked down. A deep gash ran obliquely over her torso. Blood sputtering. White light beckoned. Was this the end?
2. It was a suicide, they said. She pulled the trigger, but their oblique remarks towards her body held the gun.
This is my attempt at the Twenty Word Tuesday event hosted by Bulbul’s bubble. (https://wp.me/pbcaAs-wZ)
This week’s prompt was: Oblique.
While both these 20 word stories are about death. They are in two completely different contexts.
In reference, to the second story, I would like to take this opportunity to convey how important it is for all of us to be mindful of our words and actions. They have great power. They can create and destroy.
To anyone who is going through a tough time, stay strong. It does get better.
Eric, William and Ernest,
had all devoted their words to her.
Each syllable stirred, an innominate emotion,
each word pulled at her heartstrings.
So she set sail,
her heartsrings moulded into a mast,
her heart became the anchor
as she embarked to write about him.
‘His eyes, the colour of Earth
almost as if they dared her to venture,
to unearth the secrets they veiled
left her bewitched.
His scent intoxicated her,
reminded her of the comfort and stability
his arms offered as they engulfed her.
His heart beating in her ears.
His presence, made her heart smile,
propelled warmth into her soul
and dazzled her spirit,
promising to stay beside her.’
A single tear escaped from each eye
as she put the pen down
Each word that she had inscribed
sent a wave of sorrow.
As she mourned what could have been,
as she grieved over her loss,
as she devoted words to him
she became Eric, William and Ernest.
your heart was but a beast,
a friend of the devil
that yearned to grasp
the reins of my heart.
My soul was starving,
I believed the lies you fed me
alas, you walked over my heart
until I was but a shadow
of who I used to be.
Flickering.
I dug a shallow pit
by a brook beside the green fields
to bury the memories,
the good and the bad.
I left lilies over it.
Your favourite.
Hence was the funeral
of the girl I used to be.
A familiar feeling flooded me
A chill in my bones,
I shuddered, I grimaced
anticipating the callous blow
And then all at once,
It felt cold. tyrannical. merciless.
I shuddered, I grimaced
weary of its hostility
I felt my heart beating frantically,
I heard blood rushing in my veins,
I heard my panic mocking me
as though I was powerless
A familiar feeling flooded me
A chill in my bones,
there was no escape now,
my monsters befell me
So I sat there motionless,
they finally arrived
greetings, Depression.
greetings, Anxiety.
greetings, Terror.
My Monsters.
Around him, she’d learned to dance to the rustle of leaves. He had taught her to wash away every sorrow in the first rainfall of every monsoon.
He had taught her to sing, to the cackling flames. And from him, she’d learned to comfort the howling winds.
Then one night, the celestial light had beckoned him, But she had nowhere to go. The celestial light had showed him the way, but she had lost her path.
The flames had consumed him, But they had burned a part of her too. He was everywhere, But she was nowhere to be found.
Whimsical Wordsmith 