Taken Away

& after all the chaos & all the noises that scream & drown me in their lies, I pack all my childhood dreams, pack everything I ever believed in, & leave. I pack the plastic doll my mother gave me when I was 6, I remember how everyone wanted to be like her. I didn't understand it then, her eyes didn't shine like my sister's & her smile wasn't warm like my mother's & her arms weren't as strong as my father's. I didn't see beauty. I realize now, what they meant. I see now they are all like her - fake, fragile, tangible. I remember one tired night I cried & the doll on the shelf just watched, like these plastic people. I see the resemblance now. I pack the various birthday cards I got, paper full of feelings more than a human had today. Feelings perhaps long forgotten by the giver, but forget I couldn't. I thought that's what made me vulnerable, the inability to forget, the tendency to hold on until my hands bled. I pack the wrapper of the chocolate you gave me when I was 16 and how I madly believed in love. I pack the photograph of a boy who promised to always be there for me. I pack it with tears that won't stop as I run alone. I take everything I've left of me, every last hope & run. I run before they can snatch the pieces of my heart & scribble their desires on it. I run before they can prove wrong every last thing I ever believed it. I run too fast. I run too far.

"She left too soon." I hear them cry at the hospital.
No just in time, I close my eyes. 

What I Built Broke Me

Your eyes hold the universe & I get lost in them. I swim through its depth & look for my name. The sadness it holds drowns me. "I love you.", I say, "I love you.", it echoes. You don't blink an eye. So I look through your soul. My name? My name? I find your heart in pieces, pieces I pick. The sharp edges prick. Bruised and broken, I make you whole. "I love you," I say "Look at me". You see past me, so I look into your heart, the heart I want to claim, stained in my blood, it still spells her name. 

The Wind and The Air

We sit on the terrace of grandma's old house, amongst the fields, looking at the stars. He tells me about the girl he loved. He tells me how they went on long drives and how she sang for him and how her laugh was his favorite song. I wonder if she looks like me. I wonder if she was prettier. He tells me how her brown eyes shined in the sunlight and how they watched so many sunsets together at the beach. Blue waters, soft and happy kissing their feet. Happy times, he says. She had dimples, he says. Definitely prettier, I think. He looks at me and smiles. I gulp at what his gaze does to me. His eyes look sad. But I'm glad she left, he says. I look at him in confusion. He touches his index finger on the space between my creased brows. I try to relax, realising my expression gives away too much. He chuckles. "She was the wind, just meant to touch me and leave, you are the air I need to survive." he says, his eyes burning into mine. "She showed me what I thought love was. You proved both of us wrong. Love isn't just long drives and thoughtless promises and laughs. Love is tears. Love is pain. Love is sacrifice. Love isn't just sharing all the happy moments. Love is living the sad moments together, giving hope. Staying. Just staying."