Tuesday, August 26, 2014

clutter and chaos

He looks at her through
Stacks of books
Piles of paper
Ink stains on inkless pens
Crumbs on table
Unwashed mug
Messy desk
Cluttered drawers
Books and novels
So much chaos

And he complains that
She should behave like a girl
Tidy her table
Wash her mug
Wipe away the crumbs
Throw away the used notebooks
And pens that are no longer usable

She smiles and laughs
Sometimes apologizes
Makes an effort to
Tidy up, be more lady-like
She throws away paper
No longer needed
Puts away books
Once read and enjoyed
Washes her mug
Even uses soap

And then the pens, paper, books, crumbs
Pile up on her desk
Once again
And sticky notes that once carried
Message, important
Fall to ground, softly, unnoticed
He shakes his head
Why can’t she change for good?
And this time, she doesn’t even bother to
Pretend she has turned over a new leaf
And doesn’t wash mug or throw away paper
Or tidy up the drawers that cannot even be shut

For the clutter around her
Isn’t just a mess she made
But a part of her
Like her messy, unkempt hair
Scattered thoughts
And mismatched words
She is a girl of
Unwashed mug
Crumb-scattered table
She is a collector of
Notebooks covered in words and doodles
Pens long empty of ink
Post-its that carry once important messages
She is a girl of clutter and chaos

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

The same thing happened every day

The same thing happened every day

He would walk down that road
where there were just enough shady bits
to dart to on a sunny afternoon
the time he always chose to walk
first, down and then up that road
that had a name he never bothered to learn
and she would wait near the gate
black and dry, a light layer of dust
waiting to be washed away by the rains
that were yet to threaten their lives
and she would see him from a distance
wonder if it was really him
and then slowly, features would become clearer
she would recognize gait, figure, him
smile with excitement
and he would smile and wave back
walking towards her
then they would meet at gate
hug once gate is shut behind them and walk
to veranda, smiling and blushing, but silent
he would sit facing her neighbor's garden
she would sit facing the clear sky undisturbed
by man-made building
they would sit, facing each other
look into distance, let eyes meets
smile and share a few words
it would be time for him to go
and they would walk up to gate
hug again, hold each others hands for
just a second or two
say goodbye
and she would watch him walk up that
road with a name she always disliked
he would turn back as he passed the
brick-red house
she would smile and wave at him
and he would always wave back

The same thing happened every day

Until one day
instead of walking up to the gate
hugging and holding hands for a
second or two
he leaned in and touched her lips
with his own
and she closed her eyes
trying to enjoy the moment
a moment, a kiss, that didn't last more than
a second or two
much like the
hugging and hand-holding
and he walked up that road
with a name he never bothered to learn
he didn't turn back
so she didn't smile and wave
and he didn't have to smile and wave back
which he couldn't because
something was broken
and this something couldn't be fixed, he knew
he blamed himself
knowing he would never make this tiring journey
in the hot sun
to her house again, smile or talk with her
look at her, hug her, hold her hand
and she didn't wait for him to walk into the distance
until she couldn't see him anymore
because she knew
he wouldn't come back
and waiting for him
seemed quite useless and a waste of time
so she went to her room
and read the book they had made theirs
for one last time
even reading 'The End' on that last page
knowing those words
also ended that beautiful something
that had made all those moments of
waiting, smiling, waving, hugging, hand-holding
ritual she depended on
like sunrise and sunset