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Let my thoughts wander off the edge of this world where infinity begins
and endless notions of nihility take place,
where the silent conversations keep going and time becomes irrelevant,
where life loses its meaning and fills itself with void.
I see cosmic bodies mingling and intertwining in their disgusting  superfluous shapes judging me as if I was an ounce of worthless something.
How long does a second last here?
Oh, I forgot the time was irrelevant here.
Then where does the blackness end here?
Oh, what does it matter?
My worldly love is of no value here.
My thoughts that scream out their existence are never heard here.
I look to the moon and I look to the stars.
In my panic I look everywhere trying to find the heavenly bodies.
But you see I'm kidding myself. I know better because I know I will not see anything other than the darkness here.
So all of a sudden I'm teary but I pretend that my eyes caught the dust of something extraterrestrial passing by and that I can withstand this.
Isn't it silly to feel that you're sinking while all you could ever do in this frivolous vacuum was to float?

11th January 2014

Love Letter

It’s raining.

It has been for a while.

The droplets trickle making a sound of a clock ticking.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

But maybe it’s not a clock. Maybe it’s a time bomb.

Who cares!

I cannot remember the last time I sat down

on one of the chairs in Hyde park with that kid.

It must have been eons ago because

I don’t remember his name.

I played tricks with his mind and weaved a web of lies

between us until the threads could not hold us together.

Now I don’t know who fooled who.

All I know is that I lied to us both.

Ha, the irony!

Oh I just happened to remember that monologue

while walking past the park and watching an Asian

couple sitting on the ground frantically searching for something.

Maybe it’s her ring they lost in the grass and maybe it’s not.

But what the fuck do I care.

I wore mine only for five weeks then threw it safely into a box

and locked it away.

It was a child’s play for me that made me laugh.

I still laugh sometimes.

While walking I realize,

I am wearing those black boots today that have a zip by the side of

their laces so I never have to tie them.

That’s called convenience motherfuckers.

I am also wearing a chain around my neck.

Its pendent says “God” in Arabic.

Maybe he’s with me. Maybe he’s not.

That’s one thing I care about but often neglect to see it.

I am grateful. Truly I am

because I fell asleep for a few minutes in the afternoon today.

I told my mum that I loved her after I woke up and ate lots of carbs.

I am truly enjoying the people in my life these days.

They are different to the ones I had couple of years back.

Would I have a different set of people next year in my life?

Oh I don’t know. All I know is that figs are a blessing from heavens.

I am eating them with a loaf of bread and wondering

“What if I crashed an Oldsmobile 442 into a Tree?”

But unlike Jackson Pollock, my paintings are not complete.

They certainly don’t cost millions.

So then what’a fucking point of dying early?

One would say “ Isn't sleep enough?”

But then I almost never sleep so what the fuck would I know?

All I know is that I am not in agreement with death these days.

It’s a good sign. It just means I am happy.

Oh by the way, I've just written you all a love letter.

I hope you read it.

Truly.

 24.02.2013

All encompassing

I feel forced to obey you.

And I think to myself

“Aren’t disappointments in life enough?”

She thinks. She stutters. She whispers.

She carried an ounce of him for a few weeks

in her womb and she could not even bring herself

to tell him.

She was left to figure it out all on her own.

You’re callous. You’re kind. You’re all encompassing.

Who am I to question your paradigms

when my own deeds define my own past.

I cannot be left alone

and yet I cannot walk among the righteous.

They’ve drawn the line. They all stand on one end.

On the other, it is I.

To what end shall I consider my fate stand crumbling?

She deceived herself. She felt loved.

Then she stumbled across the only truth worth knowing.

I’ve felt it. I’ve touched it. I’ve tasted it.

Yet I’m confused.

Would you just let me go on and let it be

the way it all is?

Or would it all end one day

and I’ll start another life to see yet another era?

Could you just… would you just…

Hold me alone. Hold me close. Hold me still.

I’ve been too happy and I’m afraid,

I may run into a wall.

15^th January 2013

The Woman in Red

The bridges are broken like a shattered glass

and we will never cross each other’s lives again.

I have carried my tears where once I carried my heart

and I wonder who’ll love you now. Who’ll fall for you.

Who’ll call your name in the mornings and in the nights.

Who’ll find you troubled and lost

and hold you close with no malice in heart.

Our afternoon gatherings upon the cups of tea

would be reminded once in a while

and at the end of my lines

I will try to echo only the last pretty songs.

I will try to remember the lifelong verses

we exchanged for a short time.

I will try to remember the tiny little part of you

that was once mine

that I carried inside my womb

while lying down in my gory colours waiting for my end.

The fools will laugh and your friends will smile as they do now

when your selfish deeds will come to define your past

and in the years to come, when all the bitterness

that both of us hold so close, has gone

nothing will be left to be said.

We would have walked so far away

that looking back at the forgotten past will blind us

and memories will not be summoned

that were buried underneath a long time ago.

For now let us hide beneath our pretence and so,

perhaps one day we will both find shelter

in what we cannot fathom right now.

29/08/2012

To walk away quietly...

She had brown hair and a jaded look.
She had scarred tissues inside her skin that you couldn't see.
She was a stranger to you even when you held her lying in her bed.
I kept spinning and spinning until my thoughts switched sporadically to our fucking happiness.
"Ours" was the monosyllable that now makes my stomach churn with disgust.
So politely you patted my back and said "I want you to be OK" and quickly shifted your attention to the idiocy of your previous affairs.
I didn't understand you because I refused to accept myself the way I was.
I had fucked around in my unstained sheets until you came around.
It was then I thought I could fix my problems by turning to you and hope for the best.
In awe you used to smile and say "Where did you come from?" when I had fallen in romance with the Autumn.
But the bitch in me couldn't stand your unsheathed affection and planted a small ruthless idea in your head.
It was that unforgivable night when I rolled over in my lies and said I loved you.
There was nothing else to say or do except for one last thing; give you the excuse to bail out.
And oh I did! Like a fucking commoner you jumped at it.
You kissed the top of my forehead for the last time bidding me goodbye in silence.
You knew I would smile for you.
You knew I'd stay quiet for you.
You knew that I had lost the friend I had in you.
So foolishly you kept your indifference thinking it will go unnoticed.
Oh you must have thought "How terrible of me!"
 But baby with what face would I ever tell you that whatever we endured; good or bad was my own doing.
I deceived myself to believe I could trust the lover in you that didn't exist to begin with.
I hated myself so much so that I could inject you with confusion and panic and in return all you could offer me was my own self-infliction.
I vomited out your pathetic soliloquies when you couldn't smell the stench of my fear.
Then I laughed at us and what was to become of us.
Pray I ask, did you not hear her fall while you turned away?
You must have felt a pulse? Perhaps a heartbeat?
And now she carries an ounce of you in her womb and doesn't know what to say to you.
So now I am doing what I know to be the only truth; blindfold myself to ignore your existence that's nothing but a sham.
Yes it's an art to walk away quietly and I haven't even given you the pleasure of seeing that yet.

5th May 2012 - 16th June 2012

Orange fall

So I stumbled again
I bought an orange dress to match my lipstick
and a few ounces of your time.
I set myself up for another fall
with a bottle of rose.
I kept it all to myself
so you could not see the expression
of my sleepless nights.
You were just another stranger
who were to step in to pave my broken streets.
Instead you jumped into the muddled waters
of my existence.
I could not watch your indifference from afar.
You were tired and fucking hungover
from your last one.
You wanted me punished
and pay for what you did not deserve.
So I crawled into your uneasiness
a little earlier than you had anticipated.
You gave it your best shot.
You became predictable.
I had tossed and turned
under my torn sheets a little earlier myself.
It didn't make me forget who I was.
So why did you?
Did you not know the reason
why I decided to walk with you?
Ah, you were just too fucking hungover
and I couldn't even carry your heartless despair home.
At the end I wrote you a poem to bid you goodbye.
I stumbled across the street
so I could pick up a carcass of my momentary lapse
only to find myself taken with another fall.

Written sometime in February

Thin waters

Thin waters

Tell my love I cannot come home.
I'm not sure if its raining
or I've just fallen behind.
I cannot tell if it's the echoes of our laughter
or if I'm just clenching my own soul.
I cannot see the end of our lives
but I can see the broken bridges
and echoes of our silent flights.
I think I'm wearing someone's smile
while walking on thin waters of my demise.
Oh but the smile is not yours
because now all your highlights dance around her saddened hope
and what's become of me was not my own doing.
I cannot walk pass strangers paving my broken streets
and not know what truly is mine.
I'm terrified of what's about to fall upon the little girl inside me
that screams and weeps every so often.
Oh but I'm forever more happy than you'd ever imagine me to be.
Yet my content comes in broken pieces
and must I collect them only to see my hands bleeding
with cuts and wounds those pieces leave behind?
Yes life's a constant motion of cosmic forces
and I'm drifting somewhere along the mountains
of oblivion and consciousness, waiting to see what I pick up next.
Have I not always?

6th January 2012