phone call(s)

A wintry morning, oh how
It’s snowy outside, here I am
Making coffee for myself
While I keep on yawning as
I know I am up much earlier
Than usual, and I hastily
Glance at the wall clock
The one my parents gifted
The one you never liked
And the one I dearly kept
And I see that it’s almost
Passed four in the morning
And there it goes again
My phone rings again,
For the hundredth time
Within a span of four years

Or so I think it has been,

And I start to wonder why

This cursed phone still rings

At such odd and early hours

Since I plainly remember

The last time we spoke

I cried and we cried

And I yelled at you and

I told you loud and clear

We are through forever

That I’ve rightly moved on

There was no me and you

Not now and not ever and

I told you to hang up as

There wasn’t anything left

More to say now, and nothing

To add to our final words

Nothing to share any longer

Nothing I don’t already know

Because although I figured

You haven’t been around

It is clear to me that you

Are up to the same old

Shenanigans and I am gone

Now, out of your life and

Almost out of your mind, so

I know this is you calling me

To ask me how I have been
To even check if I will be okay
But for the umpteenth time
And for the last time I’ll say
“I’m okay, and I’ll be okay,
It’s time for you to hang up.”

annihilation,humiliation

Here it comes,

Red, yellow, green

The screeching tires

An endless scurry

A clenched fist,

Sweaty palms,

Gritting teeth,

Walk faster now

Run, if you must

Eyes on you

Don’t sweat it

Breathe in again

Don’t mutter

Purse those lips

Hands hidden

Walk upright

Don’t fidget

Run, if you must

The numbness

Will soon subside

Rub hands together

Feel the friction

The mounting heat

Adjust the weapon

Don’t let it protrude

Keep it hidden

Run, if you must

Stay calm now

Clean that face

Purge red stains

Wash everything

And in your bed,

Don’t twist and turn

Don’t harp on it

Close your eyes

Kill, if you must

catharsis

Look into these eyes 

Hold that gaze

Kill the space

Don’t nurture it,

Let it burn now, let it die

Breathe now, let it slide

Don’t defy magic

Don’t look away

Hold on tighter

Your wrath will be mine

This touch feels cold

Almost distant

Strange guilt in the eyes

Sudden knowledge 

Heavy pain, a heavy sigh

The sky changes color  

Look at me again

The nightingales, they cry

Look at me again

And the storm rages on  

train

A faint smell of your perfume
Lingers, and only seconds
Have passed since you
Walked to the other side
Of this long stretch of road
And I am here standing still,
Mulling over my tragic
Past, and my dreary present,
Comparing both to and fro,
Reflecting on the mistake I made,
The misunderstandings I had,
Feeling foolish all the same and
Knowing I am mistaken yet again,
For leading myself to longing for more
An incessant childish longing for
This untouched but not
completely unfelt experience,
So I find myself eagerly
Waiting for my train to come
The train I missed on
So many occasions and the train
I should have chosen a long time ago
The train I set my eyes on
Some few decades before,
A train I knew I should have
Picked in the blink of an eye
And I know it could have been a journey
I would have thoroughly enjoyed and
Now I call it my one way train
And I know I call it rightly so
And I can see from a distance
A faint glimpse of this train now
And I know in my heart that
It will willingly take me back
To places I have never seen
Before, and I am guiltily aware
Of the feeling that it can make me
Love things I have never liked before
Where all the world’s burden
Won’t weigh an ounce anymore
Where everything I’ve seen
Won’t feel so huge anymore
But today I knew,
It was goodbye

what i really want

I want to write without (subconsciously?) exaggerating what happened/never happened/what I felt/never felt/what I saw/what I never saw. I want to be able to express my feelings and thoughts exactly the way I feel and think. I don't want any complications and confusions in my writing; it would only hinder the process of getting to know myself. If I can't write the facts of my own life, I see no point of starting this blog. There has to be honesty in my own writing. This kind of honesty  requires a very coherent thought process and an impeccable amount of self awareness and acceptance. And guts. It won't be easy and I'm already nervous; afraid of what I truth I may stumble upon. But I am equally curious. I have always had a very curious nature. I am sure I have been keeping secrets from myself, and the only way to get through to myself is by editing nothing. At the end of the day, I would like to be able to accept my own truth for what it is and keep my calm no matter what I may find myself writing about. I want to take control of how I write what I see, think and feel. I want the truth.

So what's the truth and what's the truth?

first post

Hi world,
This is my first post. After a lot of thought, i decided to create a blog. I hope to write some (non)sense and help my self get to know myself better. One of the many things in life I am yet to understand.