A Garden of Jade Flowers

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Photo by Henry Be via Unsplash

 

It’s written in the clouds
Carried by the arms of the people you love
And who loves you back
for someone who doesn’t believe in heaven
I’d like to believe you’re in the sky
Blissful as the memories we kept

It’s an ineffable turn of events
I saw you not too long ago
But even with such a few inches of space
It felt like you were years away
In our last few moments
All I said was hello
And you said my name
Exchanging smiles
Thinking I’d see you again

Few days, few weeks
And even a few years
Our last conversation was
A recollection of our lives
Since we last saw each other
Simple small talk between old friends

I still have the photographs of you
In our red and gray skirts
Smiling not knowing as days end
We would slowly drift apart
Becoming a familiar face
A “Who’s that” in a series of albums

Perhaps we’d reconnect
Have a coffee conversation
But all I can do now
Is stare at the sky
Thinking maybe heaven can exist
In the memories that I missed

Wandering Bar Lovers

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Photo by Jan Phoenix on Unsplash

 

I don’t know where you’re going
and I have no idea where I’m heading
might as well try to find a path together
While I spill the last drop of whiskey
I’m half way drunk but still sober enough
These rocky starts and winding roads
are hard for someone who can’t walk straight
my vision is kinda hazy for me to see the way
My words are slurred but my thoughts are coherent
With my common sense still on the tracks
even without a bottle I don’t trust my instincts
you’re probably lost and asking for directions
While I’m trapped in empty glasses and conversations
Waiting for morning to shake me
You’re patient and attached
And I cling unto you
Hoping you won’t walk into a fantasy

Goodbye Alice (Sad Truth of Us)

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Photo by Tiko Giorgadze on Unsplash

we have an inevitable expiration date
at some point in our lives
we would part, the cause still unknown
there will come a day
where one of us has a piece of the other
sadly, one bigger than the other
it hurts knowing this fate
that we would only be memories
tucked into our subconscious
We will only be an anecdote
Part of small talk, chit-chat
and mentioned in conversations
The next few days, months
(hopefully years)
Would become recollections
We would be reminiscences of our youth
It pains me knowing that
we may never grow old together
we may never have our wedding dance
Or come home to our marital bed
They would turn into fantasies
Hypothetical situations, unimaginable scenarios
An imaginary world we built for ourselves
Hanging in disbelief of this uncertain expectation
Of this closing chapter
And that is the sad truth of us

Falling Apart and Burning

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I am sitting in a burning room and all I can say is that I am fine. By the next few minutes, I would be buried with my ruins of my sanity. I am watching flames dance until everything becomes ashes along with my desire to live. Turned off my phone, my Wifi, and social life.  I do not need a public confession of what is spinning in my head. Even loneliness left me by midnight.

ironic inspiration

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Thank you for the love
Unconditional
I am blessed
But you have damned my poetry
With every touch
I hear angels
With every written line
The devil would detest
Hell bent on ruins
Of my pathetic verses
Interrupting my flow
It’s love, for all they know
Passion and angst
Replaced with a metaphor
Stripping my enthusiasm
In between the sheets
My voice lost in a room
Papers scattered on the floor
You turned my writing
Into a garden
My words as seeds
My lyrics do not nurture
But with you
Here’s a flower

Paradox of a woman

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It is sad that it is universally acknowledged
That my whole being is set to be scrutinized
That woman equals sexualize

Society’s idea woman is a paradox
We are supposed to be clean and pure
By daintily making our hair fall over our breasts

Alluring but sweet and innocent
As we satisfy a man in bed
We might as well not exist

My body is not a man’s possession
I am not a prize to be won
To be displayed around your arm

I refuse to see it as gospel
That I am nothing but a man’s slut

Your knees get weak when I sigh
Your body squirms with every moan
It is exactly what you were begging for

When I am nothing but skin for pleasure
Nothing but your need of aesthetic
My purpose is no longer in the kitchen

My post is under your sheets
Between my legs is the validation for your manhood
Your breath reeks of desperation

Pinning your insecurity onto me
Calling me a whore, slander I say
Shouldering your defence with society’s opinions

To you I am only a fetish
A one night stand, someone’s wife
Dependent on owning a man’s last name

Dependent on being controlled
Because I was taught, woman equals a man
Not man and woman are equal

I am a woman and I deserve better
Than a man who only wants to fuck me
And I owe you nothing

I am human, flesh, bones and soul
My eyes, hands and legs are not an invitation
To your cavern of unjustified condemnation

I am a woman and you see me as nothing
Nothing but sweat and a mouth
To swallow your mistakes and narcissism

Your ideal woman is a paradox
You want her to exist
As we slowly fade into nothingness

God Forbid, I am Bi

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She laughed, it wasn’t sweet
Nor was she being funny
her next words stung
“You’re only confused”
“You’re a lesbian, trust me”
She said I should trust her instinct
But who is she
To define my sexuality?
God forbid I like
Both men and women
I cannot choose which I prefer
And no, there’s no schedule
No interchanging dates
pertaining to which gender I’d love
During a certain day, week or month
God forbid I can love both
Some people ask me just choose
They say my sexuality is confusing
Am I straight or am I gay?
Apparently, I can only choose one way
Even those who fought for love
disregard my sexuality
God forbid the love I’ve chosen
Why are they so perplexed
by my sexuality?
It’s not that hard to comprehend
It’s plain simple
I am speaking English
But still they can’t wrap
the idea around their heads
That I like both men and women
Instead of letting me be
they pin their confusion onto me
God forbid I like a man
they accuse me of walking back into the closet
God forbid I like a woman
then they say I am only experimenting
treating my sexuality as a guinea pig
Whom I love is an entry
for the science fair
Whom I love is to be dissected
My sexuality is a hypothesis
God forbid love wins
Because they ask me to compare
They ask me which I prefer
But in fact all they are asking
Whose skills in bed are better
As if I keep a scoresheet
Listing the names of every man
and woman I have ever been with
God forbid I am not straight
God forbid I am neither gay
Trying so hard to convince
Or push me out of a metaphorical closet
Telling me to come out
My sexuality is not an announcement
I do not need to explain my attraction
Because God forbid I like both right?