Friday, 25 March 2016

wolves without teeth

imagine war.
the past like a buried bone, scattered like the bruises
that once were a heart, yet still relentless.
the air is alive with the dust of our longing.
these are all the fevers we’ve learned how to live with.
these are all the scars we can’t live without.

imagine truce.
it was then when you came to me, restless and yearning.
we were never good at choosing our own demons,
but you leaned in, hands upturned.
i did not know that wolves are even capable
of unlearning themselves.
i could not dare tolook at my own hands.

imagine surrender.
in the absence of words, i stitched up the wounds.
it was a cold spring morning when i found it.
an entity for which you don’t have a name,
the one which you were built for.
love taking root in a corner.

imagine redemption,
light flowing from within,

Saturday, 5 March 2016

the language of emptiness

in every language
they call us empty.
everything we touch isn’t dark enough.

but how could they know
the feeling of light
in all the unbearable places ?
we are nothing but scars,
yet there are shapes of dreams and stars.

once, i loved.
once, i didn’t have all these nebulas inside of me –
all that is bruised and blackened
curled up like the night sky.
entire cities stained and left in ruins.

i’m sorry.
i really tried to stay good –
but I still flinch away from that light.