Strangle Me Softly

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Resting on his shoulder, listening to the sound of our strange hearts beating softly, I exhaled my worries out for the last time. I tried to recall the words he’d spoken before and a few other things, but eventually I found that I couldn’t keep up with the side of me that was insulting me with the humongous issues that I’d so violated by thus lying there with him like that. I was aware, wholly aware of all of them, and yet there was no guilt.

I looked at his sleeping face, feeling his strange breath on my mouth. Only now I was finally getting to understand how very different we were physically. He’d warned me about it many times and yet neither of us seemed to have paid any heed to it. Our closeness now attested to the choice that we’d both made, a decision that we were meant for each other and neither of us would have it in any other way. I knew the future of this would be a difficult one, but we would have each other to take care of together. One last breath and I would wake him up and we’d pick up on what we’d left off before, and that I was sure of.

He would kill me. I knew it, that very first time I laid my eyes on him. I also knew I wanted him to. If I can’t have him, I’d rather be his memory, a delicious thought, a fantasy he would live with forever. But now I have him and he has me. It wasn’t just any situation, it was a simple, satisfying love that brought us together, in a way that I knew there was no other I would rather be happy with, than with him, in this way.

He was once my best friend, and I loved him then. I love him now, in a different way, which is all the same. Falling for him had always been easy. It could be explained to be as simple as a child’s stubbornness of not parting with her favorite toy even though it’s broken. She keeps trying to fix it, often failing, never caring that it doesn’t quite work in the same way. She just learns to love it in her own new ways, and it doesn’t matter to her – because for her, it never broke. She loves it, she’ll love it.

It was the same with Dusk. His internal world was just as complicated as mine, and maybe that’s why it makes it all too easy to just love him. He isn’t my prize, I didn’t win him. Again it was just love, the plain old kind that brought us together. Watching him sleep now, I can’t help letting go of any remnant guilt, and just breathe, and feel like suddenly we were just two kids finally happy of having won their prize.

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Love has its ow…

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Love has its own ways. It takes time to reach us. It has its own reasons. Each explicable. Its own pace, its own frequency. It’s the slowest electromagnetic wave that defies everything to reach us in its own time from the heart of the universe.

Of Addictions and Cravings

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So how does one get out of something like an addiction?

The smoke that fills the room intoxicating time to bend,

Dancing on the floors in little twirls, to seduce will to decay…

The ever growing appetite calling on the blender to hurry.

There’re going to be guests in the house of the old man.

Few words spoken amidst the thousand candleflames chuckling

The noises whispering with the dusty old glassware and cutlery.

The wines will be flowing, the grapes crushed for the bees.

His old beloved’s had plunged down from a lofty cliff.

The smoke’s been burning thus for years and years,

The wines flowing, and all the wax finery will one day melt,

The ground, where everything always find a way to return.

What hope does he have, or what hope befell on these,

Little hearts so torn up to not understand these tragedies.

That chance, mere chance begot them of…?

What of the orchid flowers of temptation,

The sin that offer a heaven of forgetfulness and fantasy?

But in the drizzle of your paradise you’re washed clean,

Of having committed prostitution with death.

Addiction is bad they say, it makes you live a lie!

I say being good, you’re not living the truth either.

Death is inevitable, the day will come we’ll give up anyway.

Being good, you’ll hurt more lives at the end.

Or die scared to death, reality was not real,

Stuck in an asylum you’ll wonder if people weren’t real.

You’re the single human prototype stuck in a virtual illusion.

Some stupid experiment in a stuck up madman’s lab,

Who calls himself God.

Do you want to get out of misery, take the first step soon,

And ask yourself for the truth, and ask a thousand more times.

The scary truth is inevitable, because you’ve known it all along.

Something you can never give up on, cuz’ you’re just hooked on.

Forever and ever. And you don’t care if you don’t win it there.

And still, you just can’t give up. Can you?

Obsession, you call it, I call it love. Just love.

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At last, but what happens to the one who gives up on life,

Fearing that she’ll end up loving living it too much?

Reflection

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the universe broadens under the web of strain

the string, destiny draws through its dark heart

that maze, running through our very existence,

forever the enigma no human will ever understand–

in their mortal lifespans, is what the soul does.

it’s just as if the souls were but giant poppy plants,

they grow leaves they shed upon autumn

the bodies that rot and grow in the cycle of eternity.

 

foolish men. stop asking the world your questions

your rusty skin will wither and crumble one day.

ask your self, your soul and listen, you’ve been alive,

all this time.

Dreams of a Dessicated soul

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Over that hill, there is a meadow,

It’s a dream, and that, I do know.

You’re here, and I’m here, holding hands,

Faraway from the world, this strange land.

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Riding on horseback, in the sunset,

Through the tall grass wavering,

Lightly in the breeze…

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It’s a dream, it’s a dream,

To whom do I tell this?

My life woven around it…

Like and intricate sculpture of art.

 

It was once a memory too,

You and me, riding together,

Through those summer fields of wheat.

Running and falling, climbing the hills;

Destiny had woven us with its eternal magic

On the loom of time, to be together forever…

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Then you were gone, and gone, and gone,

A hundred and twice centuries have passed,

And my abyss has been cold as death,

Life’s a distant memory – my sun hasn’t dawned.

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It’s just these dreams, subconscious,

Filtering through ice-cold water,

Like little bubbles of hope escaping,

Broadens up the light overhead.

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In this dream, today, I dream of you,

You’re here, and I’m here, holding hands…

And we’re here this moment and till eternity,

When you’ll come back, will I wake up.

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Otherwise I’ll never have let you go.

Accursed

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Wishes to forget the past wounds wont bear fruit, I know.

Like hopes don’t germinate from wet ashes.

But thinking of you, I really wish, I could forget…

I shiver at certain thoughts, my wishes, some dreams.

Because, again to give it a thought, it’s impossible,

And can’t exist.

Like I’m Calypso reincarnated,

Cursed by the gods for all ages…

To live in an all consuming solitude.

The fates, ever so cruel have left me,

Absolutely no chance at redemption.

Now, as my saviour, they’ve sent me you.

But I know you’ll go away as well.

You have to.

But, I’ll always be here,

Not thinking, not hoping.

Scared to even give it a spare little thought.

Even fleetingly.

Terrified, I’ll ruin the spell.

The fateful moment has cast between us.

But I will never tell.

Like Midas I turn everything I touch, to cold metal.

Which, like statues, start dying on me.

I will Remember Everything

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Drip with all your stock of sweet golden honey,

Pour on me with some more of the hopeful bliss…

Lace me up with the bittersweet memory,

Of how we were together, at one, and twice.

 

Month, year, era, life will passes by,

Twigs, roots and time will intertwine.

We may part, and never meet again,

But this moment, on, will surely live forever.