And The Clock Ticked Louder

There emanated a painful amount of coherence from his words. If only time's hands could transform the present to the past. Maybe slowly, starting with halting the progress of now and then moving to freezing the present; and then just like the reel of a broken film that must be rewinded to allow one's mind to sew the fragments together. "Let me reminisce these moments, only to know I did nothing wrong.", she said.

Shapes

Broken Timepiece

She quietly entered, into an atmosphere that was held by weak strings. Her soft steps made him stop and look up, if only for one last perfect glimpse. He'd been struggling to scribe the emotions burning in his heart. They galloped like a horse at war, siding by their warrior who fought through searing moments of pleasure and pain. But watching her, his thoughts no longer had the strength to choose words. Wandering through the lonesome eyes of passion, there seemed little to say.

Mind Matters

I don't ever remember reflecting so deeply as a child. The carefree and fleeting thoughts seem so desirable now, but the grown mind can't find its way back down the convoluted path to that pretty candy cane home. The mind was a safe and clear place back then; but now having realised its infinite capacity, it gives the owner a sense of travelling down a black vortex for every thought that seeps in from the outside. Its spaces are both lonely and scary to venture into, yet ironically, equally gravitating. Sometimes it feels like there's a fuse that could blow off without a red sign. So I try sleeping it off, because when I wake my thoughts are either empty or busy calculating dreams.

Silent Screams

When she emerged from her mother's womb, they shed tears. Tears of joy, for it was a child they had all longed for. But slowly as they uncovered her and did not see in view that manly shaft, they got angry. They glared and groaned, shattered her mother, if only they knew that X chromosome came from that wicked father, they might have loved her more. Devoid of care and love, she grows strong within, fed enough to survive, sheltered enough to rise to the world that never really cares. They don't know what she's capable of, they undermine her faithful heart. She still carries on with the hope that one day she will rise like a phoenix from her remains of what they left of her. But then comes in another of their kind, forgetting that he ever left a mother and sister behind. He gives her that look which she knows isn't right, but despite struggling with all her might, her screams go unheard. He has the demon vested in him, his mind hosts thoughts that emanate from sick desires, half-knowledge and only given impetus by current predicaments. Her humble heart that screams, her infant face that shrieks, none are enough to make him change his mind. He believes he was born to own her, destroy her. It is our silence that makes him think so.

Up For Grabs?

I'd write, if I could. Write about it all. All those feelings. All those moments. All those desires and needs. About high mountain top expeditions, and staring far out at the clouds, wishing for a drop of rain and hope. The heart knows not what it wants and all the soul wants is to reach out and grab what it knows to be its own. That which has always belonged, but never really been possessed. A changing season, a skipped heartbeat, the union of souls, the heightened spirit.

Soul and a Wrench

A heart as cold as stone, that wrenching feeling refuses to cease. You wish it would take the life out of you but every sobbing breath you take goes against you. Every face reminds you of one that was yours, one that this heart held close and whose smile would be all one could ask for. If only consolations were enough, if only words could mean, if only death could take a leap. The hollowness is an unending abyss of pain and regret, emotions just aren't enough to release this pain. So we start seeking comfort in memories; they make a better present than what is. The pain and cognac blend well on these cold nights. Tears become meaningless, for the one that consoled can't make you feel warm and loved, and all that engulfs is the cold mist and loneliness.