Foolish beat

He hadn't changed much. Just some lines around his eyes. He'd always had those, but now they were deeper. He'd gained a bit of weight, but with his muscular build, it wasn't that obvious. Only she could tell. His every detail was etched in her memory. She smiled and extended her hand to shake his. He took it.

                                                         ***********

Her eyes. They were still the first thing that had caught his attention. He'd blinked when he'd seen them, unsure of whether he was imagining things or if it were really her. And then she'd moved toward him and smiled and he'd known it was her. And now he held her hand in his, and matched her smile with one of his own.

"Hi. It's so good to see you." She spoke first.
"Yes, it's been so long. Almost..."
"7 years and two months." She interrupted.

7 years. How was that possible? Looking at her now, he could have sworn he'd just held her in his arms yesterday. Her quiet serenity, her lady like demeanor, her radiant smile, they were all the same, still there, still as genuine as they'd always been. And her dress. She was draped in white silk from head to toe, only her shoulders and arms were bare, giving her an angelic aura that was hard to miss. The pearls at her throat accentuated the slenderness of her neck, making him want to lean in and kiss it, just like he'd done in the past.

                                                       ***********

7 years. How had she lived without him all those years? Oh, she'd been happy, but never as happy as she'd been with him. The moment they had decided to part, was the moment she had known she'd never be able to fall in a love so complete, so fulfilling, so gratifying. His eyes. They still held her captive as she gazed at him, trying to prolong those precious minutes for as long as she could. They'd crossed paths again, so unexpectedly, and she wanted to savor his presence before she was denied it one more time. She'd kept track of him for a few years, but then it had gotten more and more difficult as time passed. She wondered now if he'd done the same.

"Let's dance." He interrupted her thoughts.
"Oh..." She blushed. "Are you here alone?"
"Yes, I am. Are you?" He knew she was fishing for more information. So was he.
"Yes." She lowered her lashes quickly before he could see how nervous she felt. She knew, that as always, her eyes would give her away.

His arm circled her waist, as he led her to the dance floor. She placed her arms around his neck and he held her close as they swayed to the music. The comfort of their embrace revoked bittersweet memories, and she sighed inwardly.

"How have you been?" He asked.
"I've been okay." She whispered softly, emotion choking her voice.
"You're always okay." He answered, softly touching her cheek with the back of his hand, and looking deeply into her eyes.

And with that, she placed her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and edged closer to him, as he tightened his arms around her.

Sunflower

The tears dropped slowly. One following the other. Like lonely pearls dislodged from their shell, loath to leave their shelter, unwilling to expose their sheen.
She didn't wipe them away. She let them fall with abundance. They served no purpose. They had no destination. She didn't even care if they stained her shirt. She knew that even the stain of her tears will disappear, just like everything else she held dear.
Like a chisel. The words, the hurt, the deprivation. Like a chisel, they chipped away at her surface. Disfiguring her, leaving her flawed and blemished.
Like a rocking chair she held on. Swinging back and forth. Making it seem like a joy when there was none.

"But the sunflower always faced the sun." he'd said, expecting her to understand, exasperated that she hadn't.
She still wondered what he'd meant.
She was still ardently searching for an explanation, secretly hoping that he'd come back and enlighten her.

Because until then, the stem would remain bent.  

Karma

How can I stop the stream of thoughts that lead to nowhere? How can I stop blaming myself for a wrong choice many years ago that you are now paying its dues? How can I rest assured that you will turn out without scars? 

How can I take away the pain inside your little heart?

I look at you and imagine what your life would've been like if I had been wiser. Are you the best possible version of yourself, or will I live to regret being your mother?

Nothing in this cruel world we live in has the ability to break me except your pain. Absolutely nothing. I fall, and get back up, ready for another struggle, with a smile on my face, and a determination stronger than the one preceding it. But now I find myself battered and beaten. Now I find myself looking at your angelic face and cursing myself every moment of my waking day. Now I find myself unable to feel anything, to care about anything, to appreciate anything. 

I want nothing more than to take your pain away. I want nothing more than to give you the sense of security you have lost. I want to reassure you that mummy will always be there for you until the last breath leaves my body. But is this even enough for you?

My little sunshine. My smiling doll. My precious baby. Please be well. Please get past this. Please be as strong as I pray for you to be.

Be my Karma.

Breathe

Breathe. In. Out. Slowly.
But the images wouldn't go away. Purple screams and yellow tears. She had no clue why she was thinking in colors. But she could not hear the sobs, only see them. She could not feel the pain, only imagine it.
She ran faster and faster. And she breathed.
She broke a branch, solemnly discarded from its tree. She wiped away the drops of sweat from her forehead, carelessly falling in her eyes, blinding her to reality. Her hair flying behind her like a mad woman, like a Goddess possessed.
And she breathed.
She couldn't stop. She had to keep running until the rays of purple and yellow faded. They were still there, as bright as sunlight slanting on a deserted beach; as sharp as a knife jabbed in her insides, twisting and turning without mercy. Still, she couldn't stop.
All she had to remember was to breathe.
Until the colors died.
Until the running stopped.

Until she cleansed her soul.

Survivor's guilt

It's not that I was driving. It's the fact that she was home and I begged her to come. She said she couldn't and I kept pushing. And she came. And we had fun. And then we crashed. I'm fine. She isn't.
And it is the pain and suffering she is in that is killing me. It is my complete helplessness. It is the empty words I tell her to help her fight. Empty, tasteless words when all I want to do is delete that day and spare her this experience.
It's not that I was driving. No, it isn't that, because that crash was inevitable. I couldn't have done anything to avoid it.
It's that she was home, safe, and I begged her to come.
Forgive me, because I can't forgive myself.

Stillness

Stillness. Rippling thoughts.
Stillness. Raging emotions.
Stillness. Racing heartbeats.
Stillness takes over a screaming mind. To haunt and torture. To conquer and control. To render helpless and mute.
Stillness.
A desperate soul.

The Dance

She twirls and dances.
Happily swaying her hips and arching her neck. Daintily placing her hand in his, shyly  making eye contact then floating away again. Raising her arms above her head, proudly flaunting her moves, like a graceful swan. Closing her eyes. Losing herself to the beats. Feeling the music vibrate through her body. A smile breaks across her face, drawing lines of genuine happiness across every feature on her face. Her dress spreads around her like a hallow, making her look naughtily angelic.
He watches her.
He sees her. A fragile porcelain doll. Easily breakable. And as easily fixable. Her eyes tell stories of pain he dares not imagine, but her smile tells another story of resilience. Her dancing is that of a little girl, but her embrace is that of a grown woman. When their eyes meet, she lowers them quickly, lest she let him see inside her soul. But what she fails to understand is that he has already seen every angle of her. He knows her inside out. Just as well as he knows how she will sway her body next, just as well as he knows that she will reach for him in a minute, her back against his chest, pulling his arms around her, resting her head on his shoulder .
He knows her.
She knows him.
And in that alone lies their blessing and their curse.

They dance.

Carved Bow

The seconds passed slowly. The minutes passed slower. Only her heart beat kept accelerating, making her desperation more evident. With every moment of silence, her dread increased. Her fears multiplied. Even the lines on her face deepend. Even the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. The lightness in her step disappeared.
She had nothing. She owned nothing. She held on to illusions and fantasies and believed them. But they always slipped from between her fingers before she could savor them. Every time she raised her head, she was blinded by every truth she ignored, by every doubt she encouraged, by every trust that was broken. So she stooped again. Lower and lower until her back was bent. Arched like a bow, she moved along smoothly, fooling everyone into believing she was sparkling. A beautifully carved bow, shining like no other.
She either did not understand the world, or the world did not understand her. Because she thought she had it all figured out. She knew the rules by heart. Do no harm. Be kind. Learn your lessons. Choose right. But it wasn't a matter of her choices really. Because she always chose right. So it must be, that they chose wrong. It must be, that she was wrong. It must be. Because, that was the only explanation that made sense.
She was wrong.

Not you

When will the ghosts of past failures depart? When will disappointments stop casting their ugly shadows on moments that elicit nothing more than normalcy?
The sun sinks slowly but surely, darkening the sky, coloring the horizon, secretly saddened by its departure, proudly stubborn in its retreat. A rainbow of darkness, ultimately moving on to a new destination, robbed of its right to choose where to remain. Searing boldness and mesmerizing beauty, withdrawing with quivering passion. Renewing its presence hopefully, only to be rejected once again.
And so it sets and rises, gracefully.
Touching nothing. Touching everything.

Twisted

It kept eluding her. Her inability to fall completely in love. Her self restraint. Her impulsive control over her feelings, with the most minimal of efforts. It bothered her. Looking around her, it did not seem normal. Even though she'd never craved normal, this one inadequacy plagued her thoughts. Clouded her inner peace. She kept wondering what she was missing. She even tried to force herself to surrender completely to her emotions. But the more she tried, the more she encountered detachment. The more she sought an ever lasting love story, the more she was overcome with apathy.
It was the one trait she was unwilling to accept. Because that would mean she was cold and heartless. Because that would mean she was manipulative and calculating. Even though she wasn't.

Even though she thought she wasn't.

Fork in the road

She paused, with her hand on the doorknob. She always trusted her instinct. It never failed her. Right now, she fervently wished it would. She wanted so much to be wrong. She wanted so much to be delusional. Try as she might, her gut instinct told her that if she turned that doorknob, and pushed open that door, she would become a broken woman.
She took a step back. A subtle step, hardly noticeable if anyone had been watching. Her eyes filled up with sudden tears. Her breath came in short puffs, doing nothing to nourish her startled thoughts. She waveringly thought of how her life would change in an instant. She hesitantly contemplated her options. She slowly tried to collect her scattered emotions.
And then the memories started scouring her soul. Mostly joyful memories. Nothing bitter, nor hurtful about them. No memory painful enough to make her want to take another step towards what she felt she knew, but refused to acknowledge.
She removed her hand. It was cool, after losing all its warmth to that cold metal. She rested it on her heart and took a deep breath. It was touch and go. She couldn't just stand there forever. All she had to do was reach out her hand again and push open that door with all the courage she could muster. And surrender her destiny to fate.
She nodded her head, feeling confident.
And then turned around and walked away.

Hindsight

She paused to take her breath. Leaning against the side of the car, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to quieten her racing heart. It didn't work. She had no explanation. No reasoning. It was too late already. It had happened. She knew, it was that split second when their eyes had met. That moment when she'd let her guard down, willingly.

She'd lifted her eyes to his. Knowing that it was too risky, yet challenging her insecurities. With hesitation that had lasted for seconds, yet had seemed like an eternity, she'd raised her head and looked up. Directing her gaze in a straight line of vision. She'd not flinched, even though all her senses had been quivering with the anticipation of what she might uncover.

She'd known she'd find questions, not answers. But she hadn't bargained on the depth and intensity of those questions. She'd known she'd be mesmerized, but she hadn't been prepared for just how much. She'd known she'd find a longing for redemption, but she hadn't understood just how much guilt and regret she'd encounter.She'd known she'd find a silent plea, but she hadn't known what that plea would hold.

And in that exact moment when their eyes had connected, she'd silently whispered the answers. And she'd looked away, already giving away too much, too early.

Her heart was still racing, but she opened her eyes and looked up. There would be time to look back and reflect on that moment. There would be time to cherish it. There would be time to miss it.

But not now. Now, was the time to be real.

Glimmer

I see your glimmer. Cautiously making its way through rays of blinding light and overwhelming darkness. Hesitant yet bold. Significant yet small. Reflecting sparkles of dust and shores of burdens. Secure in the knowledge that as soon as it shines, it will conquer. Deluded though by the imperfections. Sometimes reigning in to the temptation of mediocrity. Other times challenging the suffocating boundaries.

I see your glimmer. Maneuvering its path through eyes wide shut. 

Normal Day

But it's not is it? It's your birthday. And no one's there to celebrate it but me. Because well, you see, you're not here any more. Physically I mean. You're not in our world. You're in heaven. Playing with the angels. I see your beautiful blue eyes twinkling at the sides with laughter. I hear your giggles. I visualize your chubby legs and arms flailing in the air with joy. I kiss your rosy lips covered with drool. And I smell your baby scent, the one I loved, the one I can never forget.

I miss you my baby.

I miss holding you in my arms.

I miss cuddling you.

I miss nursing you.

I miss looking into your eyes, seeing the confusion lurking, and holding you closer to make you feel safe.

I miss your soft black hair, as dark as the night sky, falling carelessly across your forehead.

I miss your soft cries, signalling your need for me, filling my heart with maternal pride.

I miss your tiny fingers circling my thumb with a ferocity so uncommon for a newborn.

They don't know that for the world it may be a normal day. They don't know that I pretend it's a normal day. They don't know that it's your ninth birthday. They don't know that this day, for the rest of my life, will be anything but normal. That I celebrate your birth inside my heart. Alone.

Stranded

She spread her hands haltingly, her palms turned upwards. If her eyes did not reveal her fear, then surely her hands won't. He reached out to comfort her, but she took a step back. Betrayed and bewildered, he turned his back to her.
"Wait" she called out, before he took his leave.
But all he could hear was the hesitation in her voice. He kept walking, silently beseeching her to call for him again.
"Wait" she whispered, a single tear falling down her cheek.
He did not hear her plea.
He did not catch her tear.
He kept walking, quickening his step, with every quickening heartbeat.

Where to go with all that pent up energy? It will not end well, I know.

The Clairvoyance Collective

The Clairvoyance Collective

Randomness

I seek you with  helpless abandon. In the darkest corners of my mind, I search and search, and turn up empty handed.
I wonder and explore, restless in my fruitless escape from reality. My confusion eternal. My displeasure discontenting. Grasping at the ashes of a dream long gone. Forlorn in my attempt. Unable to accept a truth that seems to be staring me in the face. Challenging my thoughts of surrender. Conquered by the inadequacy of the bare facts.
Disappointed in my apathy more than anything else.
Fearful of the consequences.
Reluctant and unsatisfied.
The exploration, yet again, is not complete.

100

I will not find you. I know.
You will forever remain a dream. An aspiration. A tribute to a life I weaved out of my wandering imagination.
Cast away with tenderness. Discarded voluntarily. Replaced with contentment.
Teasing me every now and then with hope. Planting a smile on my face. A lightness in my step. A quirk in my humour. A flush across my cheeks.
My eyes. That sadness lurking behind the brightness. That mischievous glint. That shy hesitation. That innocence. They seek you out.
You linger in my sheltered thoughts. Among the desperate and the sublime. Mirroring my own virtues and faults. Leading me to heightened peaks. Abandoning me with gentle reluctance.

I will not find you.
You will never find me.

Picture Perfect

She saw him first.

The upturned collar of his coat casting a shadow across his jawline. The lines around his eyes creased from the smile she knew so well. His hands in his pockets, as he waited carelessly.

She asked herself the question she asked herself every day. Why him? 

The uncertainty and doubt invading her soul doubled with every passing moment. The regret. The struggle beyond logic and emotion; beyond any sense or reason. The apathy, followed by moments of ecstasy, ungrounded her. 

Trapped by a yearning that exceeded the boundaries of any she had felt before. Shaken to the core by the gentle brushing of his lips against hers, yet repulsed by his embrace at heightened moments of desire. Vulnerable and unsure in his presence. Exposed, yet hiding behind layers of personalities. Unleashing her authenticity only when she is farthest from him. Attacked by waves of emotion, by the simplest and most subtle of gestures. Constantly swinging between insecurity  and confidence. Randomly timid. Consciously denying her right to shine in his shadow.

She smiled, and quickened her step. She missed him terribly. Sensing her approach, he turned his head to look for her. Their eyes met. His smile broadened and he reached out his hand to her. She took it and laced her fingers through his.

Surrendering herself anew. 

Nora

Thank you Nora. You served your purpose for many years. Now it's time for me to take over. I'm still anonymous to the world.

But no longer to myself.
 

Mariam

If I could take it all away, I would. If I could spare you even a minute of pain, I would. If I could change the story, I would.
If it weren't for you, nothing would be worth it. The struggles, the challenges, the hurt, the need to keep going on. That is all for you. Nothing else matters. Nothing else comes close to knowing you are well. The beauty of your heartfelt smile is the most amazing gift I can ever ask for.
I pray. I pray daily that I chose right. For you, I pray.
I pray that when the day comes, you will understand. I pray that my own selfishness did not cost me your peace of heart and mind.
If I could've done any better, I would've. Please know that I did the best I could.
I love you.

Silence

Even my thoughts are silent.
Too many questions without answers. Too many random events that make no sense. Too many wrong turns and poor choices. Too many misgivings to be taken seriously. Too many twists and turns.
Too many memories, distorted by a heart that chooses to see them better than they actually were.
Too many wanderings inside a mind that has not rested forever. Maybe it's time to rest now.
Silence is best.
It does not require a companion. Nor does it require an audience. Nor does it expect a conclusion.
The silence soothes.
It understands the melancholy. It does not mistake it for anything else than what it truly is. It does not preach. It does not wait for it to pass. It does not judge.
The silence is so restful.