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

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
wave
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
then,
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