Yes I am afraid,
to love you,
because this is all,
the heart i have,
battered and bruised,
been through dead
and beyond,
a smile, a play with hair,
a giggle, a playful eye,
all i need to love you,
but why afraid?
because of rejection?
no,not at all,
rejection would pull me out of the black hole,
it’s the acceptance I am afraid of you,
because I cannot get enough of you,
anytime, any point, anywhere.
I have little fire left inside,
left is little love too,
also left is a little hope altogether
seems so little but true.
I have sight getting blurred,
a heart that is slowing down a little,
a spark that is refusing to die
but ready to burn little.
Little things to cherish for,
little things to worry,
little is the time we have,
then why not make merry?
My Past sometimes plays Russian Roulette with me,
Instead of bullets that may cause sudden death,It uses memories.
The only problem is, it brings me down to the ground.
Every Single Time.
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I still remember the chilling wind,
when I stood without a jacket on,
having travelled a thousand miles,
to hear out something I never expected,
Even after 3 Years,
even the faintest memory,
give me chills in the warmest quilt.
“I can’t”, She said.
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Disgusted and Tired,
I wake up in my room
and watch men walking to their offices
like a group of penguins
I feel the air grew warm and sad for me
but not warmer than my quilt
I see the day bright
but some days you want to drink darkness
and have hangovers of past
of times when you were not having a penguin suit
but just a naked scarred soul which was afraid to live like so.
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Except from the “Rum Diary”.
She – Not going gloom on us ,are you? Sitting alone?
I – Apologies,nothing like that.
She – What is the book about you reading?
I – It’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner, was written by a junkie when he was 22, I am 24 now, I have been carrying a typewriter for past two years..I have written nothing.
She – Don’t say like that, you have written a few novels.
I – They have no voice.
“This conversation still gives me goosebumps.”
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Writings to Heaven 