Mamihlapinatapai

I should have kissed you then,
When our smiles and eyes were drunken and content.
I waited to find if it was true love or ethanol,
but really, I didn't even care what it meant.

When our toes touched
on the smooth marble floor
and I noticed everything,
your dimples and the glasses you wore.

The day you bought me pie in the rain,
And cake - one of every kind.
You were soaked and delicious and almost mine,
I must've been out of my mind.

When the hazy heat settled heavily
on our summer skin,
And your cool fingers on my back
traced out irresistible sin.

I should have kissed you and more,
Shouldn't have let it fizzle and end.
I could have loved you,
But now you're just an 'almost', you're a sad poem, you're a Facebook friend.

Good Things Come To Those Who Wait

I am impatient. I blow dry the nail polish on my hands because I know I can't sit still for 10 seconds. I x8 fast forward the MGM lion before movies. I don't write about the little things in my journal when I have big news. I eat whole bars of chocolate in one go. I wikipedia uninteresting movies to know how they end, and I never sit through the credits. Dessert is the first thing I decide on when I look at a menu in a restaurant, and spend the whole meal pining for that last half an hour. The way I drive lets people know that I hate Are-We-There-Yets. I pick at my scabs before the wounds heal. I have never managed to listen to an entire Dream Theater song in my life.

What I'm trying to say is that if you want me, come get me, and come quickly. Because I won't wait. I don't know how.

I do not rest in peace

You said you would never leave me,
and you never have.

Every lonely cup of tea
is a stinging reminder of
the empty space beside me
on our too-big bed.
Every empty room
fills me with the lack of you,
your lithe limbs, your gravity, your perfume.
Everything is cold without the heat of your gaze.

What good is my breath, my life?
It is wasteful; I do not know
who to be, if I cannot be your wife.
Truth be told...I do not even know how to be.
What good is anything now,
when you have turned to dust?
The strawberries are bitter, broken is every vow,
and beauty itself has begun to rust.

You said you would never leave me
and you never have...
because I have buried your body in a way
that I cannot bury your memory.

Risky Business

Great love carries great sorrow
upon its back,
When you have everything,
Then, you will find something you lack.
He is gentler than a warm summer breeze,
but remember, you are fragile; easy to crack.
And if the breeze should ever a storm brew,
He could turn your sky from azure to melancholy black.
You are the most beautiful love song,
but melodies end, and stories can fade into a yellowing paperback.
Then how do you preserve your love
like the fragrance of cinnamon on the old spice rack?
Sweet, comforting, warm always,
Never surprising you, never cruelly taking you aback.
"You can't," she said,
She said, "You must trust that love is not a one way track."

Forever

Your unkindness, it has withered me down
into flesh hanging loose
on tired bones.
Bitterness has seeped into the streets of this small town,
into the walls of our home, and into the walls of my heart.

We never buy butter, chocolate and silk,
Instead we carry shopping bags heavy
with regret
and fresh milk
that will go sour, like we did.

The cotton candy words you spun,
Once so sweet,
Have come undone,
and have begun to rot my teeth
and eat at my soul.

I find every slight a mountain
that I am now too weak
to climb.
And my forgiveness is a fountain
that has dried up.

Our bickering is unending,
And I have known not peace
since I have known you.
Our fights are left pending
because I can no more bear the cruel curl of your mouth.

Our breakfast conversations are burned
with your caustic vitriol
Each word
is an effort, twisted and turned,
it is a lump of burning coal.

Yet, I love you
And I do not know
if it is the dint of habit that keeps us together and true
Or if we are meant to be,
destined and forever.

Table for One

I have become an island. Sure, it's a scenic place, and there are ferrys at regular intervals. But the weather is unpredictable around these here parts and when my temper is particularly torrential, not too many people are willing to ride that lonely, rocking boat with the creepy old one-eyed oarsman to get across.

I don't mind it. I can stand in queues alone even when my iPod battery has died. I can drive alone, and I can take walks alone. I can drink coffee alone and I can drink whiskey alone. If I was the kind of person who smoked, I would be the kind of person who always had her own lighter and never bummed cigarettes off anyone. I can think alone. Cocktails and reservations - I can make them for one. I can tell myself my butt doesn't look big in that dress. I can buy myself pretty things and ice cream on a bad day. I can buy myself pretty things and champagne on a good day. I can finish my own popcorn at a movie, and I can hold doors open. I can't bake alone - but then again, I can't bake at all. I can keep my own secrets. I can go to the supermarket alone and buy ten boxes of sugar coated cereal instead of sensible things. I can be far too practical to be lonely. I prefer the singularity.

I have learnt to be alone. I only hope it was a choice.

Puzzling Pieces

You flit in and out of my mind,
and I flit in and out of love with you.
Oh, you've been so unkind,
and I know I have too.

This delicate dance,
it has to end.
There is no hope, and not a chance -
for you and I will neither sway nor bend.

I can't seem to hold on to you,
but don't blame me - neither can you pull away.
Without you, all I ever feel is blue
but with you, I can no longer stay.

You kiss my lips,
with goodbyes you never mean.
And I forgive your mistakes and slips,
but we can't always be the in-between.

So today, I'll pack up my things,
Take my boxes, my big heart and my pointed wit,
Maybe tomorrow we will be more than one of those flings
Maybe tomorrow, just maybe, we will fit.