I know you won’t remember in the morning, when I speak my mind.

I know you won’t remember in the morning, when I speak my mind.

An exception, liability, outcast, out of league and much more but not someone whom you ask to stay.

  After our obvious deeds. I feel our young and blue bodies interwined as we lay. I can inhale you from you hair, felt so damn homely. 

As the night gets youthful, I talk about my friends, family, my aspirations and beliefs as we spoon. I can feel your breath in my arm, head rested on my chest. I feel such a man.
I tell you eveything i am and i am not. You say, “never realized you actually do talk alot” we both laugh at that.

I tell her all my truth. My sinful truth, my ugly truth.      

The more I dive between the future and the past. I see her fading away as I watch her bored hefty eyelids shutting down in a slow pace with her pupils dancing beneath them, dreaming other things but us.

I understand,  hence I stare at her and quit my blather about our non-existent relationship. Afterall, I was an exception.   A needy exception indeed.

I suddenly feel the heavy pit in my stomach. My intution tells me to get out of there.    Correction: sneak out. I recollect my mess of a wardobe from the floor.

Everything moved fast as she didnt smell home anymore. It was bizzare for me to stay out of my bed this late.
Without even glancing a last look back i sneak out. Get a cab. Cry while I returned back home. It felt vunerable to open up, didnt fancy the idea of being myself and not being cared enough. 

I get home, mum chokes me with her love and concern. I dont make eye contact. Brush my teeth and disappear in my comfortable sheets and fluffy pillow. Nothing feels more homely than this. 

A place where I musnt need to keep my hopes low. A place where expectation is dead while the hope is a ghost.  No one toys with the hopeless.  

Once a liability, always a liability.

Yours, Truly disastrous.

Yours, Truly disastrous.

Sorry, there is nothing pure about the things we do.

You fight so hard, so much,

Not to be seen, loved or heard.

 

Then, someone looks at you differently,

And it’s fine.

To give it in, tear it down, stripping it all.

 

But,

 

Vulnerability makes you loose it like shit.

 

They say, “Give it to the fire.”

Your pride, guilt, lust, teeth and yourself………….

 

She spits fire as she gets close

My skin screams, ignites;

I feel the screech of fear and pleasure

 

I run away from fear.

I run back for pleasure.

Pushing up my toes,

Wanting more.

 

We work it out like sun and moon,

I only glow when I am reflecting off of you.

Or, at least we believed so.

 

Guess what! You should know about us more.

No, we shouldn’t.

Or maybe we should.

 

There are perfect graceless nights when you stay.

We suffer from amnesia,

Forget about the distance monster.

 

In the morning,

You go away because you need to.

And I understand because I have to.

 

There is nothing pure about any of this.

 

 

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Sorry, I was never born to drown.

 

We sit down to eat,

We have nothing to say

 

The breakfast gets as cold as our feelings.

 

Sorry, I was too busy seeing happy people on other table.

Sorry, I was too busy swallowing the big lump in my throat.

 

With that follows scream,

Screams that form words, “psychopath, sociopath and foul”

 

Then, you and I leave.

We return back,

Blame it to the long distance monster.

 

But What about the monsters we tuck under our beds?

Our tongues get tied up as we hide each other’s demons.

 

There was nothing pure about us.

We were together for a summer,

After that it was just 9 month’s long influence.

 

I wish it wasn’t influence

I wish it was love.

 

So, you came back

You are here now

I ask, “For how long?”

“Summer break!” she says

 

You are here now

And the perfect graceless nights are merely obligations.

 

We are nothing more than jewelries.

Easily worn and taken off.

 

Told us we were like sun and moon.

Every night I live and you die.

And it gets eclipsed when we meet.

 

You shouldn’t have trusted me.

You know how moon works,

It changes everyday.

so do I.

 

I know I tore you open with my ignorance

We both know we tried to feel anything at all.

We failed to recreate graceless nights similar to our remembrance.

 

I know it is gonna hurt.

So, I will run away first.

 

Soon enough,

Someone will love us.

But that someone isn’t us.

 

She wishes to never meet me, she knows.

I am falling back to the dark hole I came from

And I never felt this safe to curl up while expectation snows.

 

So, fuck you!

 

Dark hole was never a place.

Until I created it.

People call it being alone.

I call it “not drowning into someone else’s shit”

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We are hollow like the bottles that we drank.

We are hollow like the bottles that we drank.

I look up at my phone like every morning.

Instagram filled with fabrication of documented lies or I like to believe it that way. I just linger around the idea of using the app day planner but I know what will happen through the day.

I have been living almost the same day everyday since past few years. Which my mum gladly likes to refer as “running out of time” phone blows up with texts from my folks for meeting up as usual.

I find my shoes, get my jacket and try to get some money from mum and make my way out. My mum stops me to blame me for everything under the sun but lends me what I need for a typical summer day of my life.

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Summer days are longer and well summery.
Must be the reason why we feel so warm, youthful, lethargic and timeless even though we are younger as a minute.

We don’t need any policies, no out dated stereotypical rules. We know we are the coolest.

Getting tipsy, running around on summer nights, playing stupid dare games.
We roam around the roads where the houses don’t change; we watch each other tirelessly trying to grow up and we effortlessly fail, we mock at that because it’s humorous.

It must be humorous otherwise the alternative would be something else related with guilt of failure.

Eyes get rolled when people try to shove mannerisms down our throat. They think we dumb? We don’t know that? Everyone does. We just choose to be diva queen in tears who just don’t care.

Eyes study the floor when they boast about their studies of business and human bodies. Makes us wonder why people talk so much!

Eyes won’t stop bashing skulls but still they don’t quit their blathers.
They and we talk like there is actually something to say but the truth is we are just killing time.
Cause we are never done throwing useless words at each other. Words summed up to sentences that never really hits but ends up with burned throats.

I am glad that we stayed to feel timeless, hopeless and useless rebels. We want this summer to end and never end at the same time.

I return with the same old feet and shoes, with jacket swinging in my hand. I try to slip as quietly as possible but the booze won’t let me.

Mum’s voice rings, “who’s over there?” A minute or so flies she is standing right in front of me hands crossed against her chest with a frown blended with anger. I know that look on her face; I see it everyday on every summer night. I don’t like being choked by my mother’s love. So I try and ignore.

She just shakes her head in disbelief and walks away murmuring something about responsibilities, growing up and being tired.

I produce a short giggle moreover a yelp.
I am tired of myself too.
I am Tired of people, Tired of life, and Tired of expectations.

So, I decide to disappear because I have to breathe for another summer day of my life. A year long summer to survive. I try to disappear into my dark room staring the darker ceiling.

We are hollow. But we believe we are brave.

(listen to lorde’s 400 lux)

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