Burn

That torch you have carried around for them,
yes, the same due to which you hands since long, lay burnt
they are your tools for the last lesson you teach
The one that they otherwise wouldn't learn

Step 1.
You light that matchstick
And start with the bridges first.
You cross it, slow and steady.
and brace yourself for the worst.

Step 2:
Then.
You torch it and watch it.
Watch it unwield into disrepair.
You let the embers smould inside you
And through you, cry out from its belching flares
And while the bridges you burn lights the way
And the heat starts enveloping the air,
choking the skies, clouding your eyes,
You delve deeper into the unforgivable's lair.

Step 3 :
You turn your attention to the main foundation.
Focus.
Revenge is a one way street.
Holding tightly onto your flaming torch again
Light it. Burn it. Repeat.

Step 4 :
As the spreading heat quadruples
and the flickers dance into sky high flames,
You join the unforgivable in your created wildfire
Knowing there are no winners this game

And then you burn.
But with your heart on your sleeve.
And then you burn.
Ending the endless cycle of reprieve

Eclipse

Another eclipse secures its legacy

as the moon veils her phase

with light facing inward, reflecting

the passing of life's days

For the majority it's just another day

For others it is a sign

Only a few see it for what it is

the passage of three and a half centuries in time.

Choose Your Poison.

Lesson #1 : Happiness is fleeting.
Lesson #2 : Suffering is not. It is infact relentless in its pursuit of morphing by deriving itself from one source to another. Sometimes out of sight but never out of mind, that sneaky little bitch.


And while the fight against suffering is the prima donna of existentialism, some sufferings make you feel alive. The pain of some is worth the fight. The pinch is worth the goosebumps. So on so forth. 

If loosing our suffering is not an option, why can't choosing our suffering be one.

After all if every individual has a limited number of fucks to give, should'nt it be of our choosing and no one else's? As insane as it sounds, maybe choosing our poison is the only derivative of happiness we can procure from it.

I am a sufferer and I will choose the fucks I and only I give and no one else.

P.S. : Maybe I would want that etched on my tombstone too. 

#ramblingsofacaffeinatedwoman

Premature Midlife Crisis?

Life these days

When your brain works with all the subtlety of a malicious child.

Moments of unnerving calm interspersed with phases of batshit wild.

Things He Never Said

.... I hear you

and this time

I will try to extend you a steady hand

instead of a ready retort

.... You want to know what my plan is?
My plan is that I love you 

.... and I am so so sorry  

for making your life harder 

because of that.

....  Today
That thing i promised you.
No excuses, No B.S
Regardless.
Today.

Brain Picking 101

#4 : 'I Am Not Afraid' ?

The Unspoken and the Unheard

Dedicated To The Coolest Granma & Grampa - 

Gallant protector's of my 'vast realm'

Granma - The Queen of Unicorns and Angels

and Grampa - Santa's best friend

The day you left, my realm crumbled into ruins.

The Major Constituents of My Make Believe World

The Burden is Not Around But Within

There is something heavy weighing down my heart that needs lifting.

Now.

What You Want vs What You Get

The difference lies in the diversity

In the form.

Not the function.

In the Want

In the Gumption.

In the maneouvre

Through each curve

And the pursuit 

of going beyond your nerve.

I Remember You

Do you remember, forgetting to fall asleep the other night?

I remember you.

Do you remember when I woke up in that memory?

I remember you, waking up in a memory.

#03

#02

All posts have been made on Canva

Everyday

The only thing I’m afraid of

Sometimes we have many reasons to be afraid 

and not a single reason to love.

Yet, after all the hell you put me through, 

the only thing I’m afraid of, 

is not loving you when I have the chance to.

Untitled

Hearts and Mind

Venice | Italy | April 2017

" I swear if I believe that knowing every single thing about one another could protect us from future troubles, I would tell you every moment of my past.

" Then why do I feel afraid?"

"Because life is full of uncertainity. 

That's why we love. 

To face it with someone together"

But what about, 'What might not happen'?

You are letting them kill parts of you that they don't like.

You are letting them make choices for you that you wouldn't otherwise make.

You are letting them dictate the terms of your happiness.

You are letting them hurt us even when they have no clue who 'we are'

You are letting them get to you, and increasingly worry about what might happen.

I fail to understand  how you cannot see that, 'what might happen not happen' is so much worse.

And then you say,

they are 'making you do this'.

When the truth is, 'You are letting them'.

Not. The. Same. Thing.

Retribution

“She has her helmet, shield and sword. Does she finish him or take pity on the gutless thing before her?

Does she set fire and smoke him out, forcing him to fight, or does she let him live with himself and take satisfaction from knowing that he has never been in a real fight in his life and that one day he will have to face his demons in person, along with the consequences, and that both can be far more painful than anything she could ever do to him.”

― Donna Lynn Hope

The Unforgiving Night

Essaouira, Morocco, October 2016

Because I cannot sleep

I write 

Amidst sighs of anticipating the agony of tomorrow. 

Because I refuse to weep 

I write. 

Squinting at the city lights I crave to borrow. 

Because I have no reputation of an omnipotent god 

I write. 

No miracles or granting wishes power in my kitty 

Nor have I been known to be a tyrant 

Thus I write 

Even when revenge would have been befitting 

Because every decision comes at a cost 

I write

While the hush of the wake weighs down heavy 

Harrowed by the vestiges of the love that's now lost 

I write 

Disarmed and Unsteady. 

The Limitations of Wonderful

And so they might have the perfectly wonderful life, 

and they could spend their nights with different wonderful people, sharing their fears and wonderful fantasies.
Maybe there’d even come a day when they would forget about each other all together,
and they become nothing more than a faded memory that brings a smile to thier moist lips.

But wonderful doesn’t always mean worthwhile.

Choosing Our Battles

I was not asking you to back away from a fight, 

I was asking you to pick one that is more important.

The Spinner of Yarns

His professed love is a veiled threat, 

that strangles till she's blind. 

Every truth that he hides to save his pride, 

is embedded in her mind. 

His crystal eyes, express fluid lies 

he is intoxicated by the past 

Not the first time he has crossed the line 

and maybe not the last.