The End

The End

He drew me towards him with a fraigle thread of honey-like words. He stayed, he supported, he listened if he couldn’t help. But I held back that thread under all expectations and pressure so well. I wished to grant him a place in my heart but by some it was already locked. I muttered in his ear, “It will be fine,” but some sealed my mouth forever. Yet, It didn’t have an unhappy ending because it never got to have a begining.

Illusion

Many came and went,

found solace in the flowers

that reminded them of

of your scent.

Brought chocolates

and flowers

feeling that your nature resembles 'em.

Wrote you notes and letters

with the expectation

of yours in return,

marked by your red stain.

However,

My dear,

I felt you in the pouring rain,

I saw you in the dawn

and cupped your face,

just a slight touch,

in the dusk.

I sense you in the morning sky,

and feel you

under the starry night.

Perhaps, its me or just a delusion

if so, my dear,

let me be tangled in these threads of illusion.

Unrequited Love

Unrequited love is one when I feel so close to you 

yet you so far from me.

Unrequited love is one when I buy you a flower

which reminds me of you

 but it remains a mere piece in your vast collection.

Unrequited love is one when I perceive your smile in the dawn

but you a mere beam of light emitting from the morning sky.

Yes, it is love,

however,

solely felt from me to you and my dear, 

How I long to break these chains of emotions holding me

from writing this letter and leaving it on your table 

while you read your favourite fable.

How I wish to remain no longer be bounded by these threads of feelings,

by these threads of love

that remain solely felt by me for you.

These threads of unrequited love, my dear.

It all works out at the end.

This deserves to blow up! So beautifuly written.

Selfishly, I hope I have left an imprint on your heart - I hope my name is signed on one of the chambers with a lock only I have the key to. I hope when the sun comes through your blinds on Sunday mornings you remember how I would lay there next to you, back bare, my eyes staring into yours. I hope when the girl sitting across from you laughs you think about mine, how it would fill the room and your chest just the same. I hope you look back on the kind of love we had and realize it was a once in a lifetime chapter of the novel you now have to continue writing without me. Selfishly, I hope there’s still time for me to be the one who’s there until the very last page.

If not, help me let you go.

Rain

The sound,

The smell,

Intoxicating.

Your eyes,

Your lies,

So are they.

The rain

and you

so similar,

aren't they?

Is that the reason,

when I feel the water

I see a glimpse of your face?

The flowers bloom, 

spreading their petals,

they remind me of you and the previous night.

Just like the rain,

I feel a sense of affection

and comfort at the bit of moment.

However,

when the lights go off,

the consequences make me weep in pain.

Just like the rain,

Why do you become a need

and a disastrous cause to me?

When it perishes,

resides a rainbow

in the sky as a 

sign of accomplishment.

But then why,

just like the rain,

I long for you

when I look at it beaming

 in the morning sky?