The black the white the gray of life

The black the white the gray of life

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Hurt and Chocolate





When you are hurt, treat yourself with a nice chocolate. That is because, it is bitter and sweet at the same time. Solid and melting at the same time. And a hidden raisin suddenly comes as a surprise. Just like the blow that struck you suddenly. 


(P.S Injury is physical, Hurt is mental, I'm talking about hurt so do not confuse.)

Mirror Mirror on the wall...


Fascinated by your honesty I stand. Looking through my own little heart, bitten into two, often, sewn into one. When I come closer to you, why do you blur. Or is it me, shying away from my own in-capacities?

Devilish me, you see through don't you? Indulge into my deepest darkest secrets and laugh a shrill laugh! Take a high from the heaviness in my throat, the voices I have choked. Throttled, like a bottle with a cork stuck. It is only your symmetry that I fail to decipher. Turn as the images in you do. Each glimpsing into more identity. What will you do to a corpse? Perhaps, take it all along its journey. Not in frames or flashes but in glimpses so many. Teenage pimple-pitted faces, self-realizing and exploitative young women. Bitches of the dark, they are safe from you. It's those shiny personas you spit gleam at. I'm not saying I'm shiny. I'm saying spit your gleam on me. Turn and twist like I do. Slithering in dreams like a snake in pain. Whimpering, losing to sorrow, deepening. Invite me in and I'll know your sins. I've chased perfectionism long enough. Making no one proud. No allies. No companion. No not many. My fallen, charred feathers won't lift any spirit anymore. With holes in them, the courageous sunlit-air will wham through.

I'll faint to the ground in front of you. Back to you. Back to me.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall...I want to leave the world in front of you. Grace peace.
 Corpse staring at a spirit alive! Me, show me my life. Show me how I stood struggling inside the womb, outside, waging.

Show me, I'm waiting...Making no one proud. No allies. No companion. No not many.