One last time

Maybe if we met one last time

Just for five minutes

And you said all the wrong words

And did all the wrong things

I'd realise I was no longer in love with you

plain jane

No one knows about the things that actually matter

The things you hold on to years after you've lost them

No one knew about you, even though we never tried to hide it

Years later, mutual friends are still surprised

Perhaps it was because we were such an unlikely couple

You were... well, you

And I was just plain old me

coconut

Crack my head open like a coconut if you must

Split it in half and reach in

Pull out the bits of my brain that don't do their job

Filling me up with anxiety and dread

Depression and sadness

Self-doubt and a fear of loss and

An inability to trust in the good things

Instead turning to constant worry about things going wrong

Don't bother with the psychoanalysis

It won't work

Just split my skull in two and

Pull out those bits of my brain that don't do their job

cordial

 

I turned around to see him walk towards us that night

When the sky was clear and the seas were calm

We smiled, said hello

He sat a few seats away from me

No one knew there was a shared history between us

I wouldn’t blame him if even he didn’t remember

Sometimes, I forget too

As the hours passed by and our bodies

Soaked up all that alcohol

We spoke more freely, laughing

Until he had to leave, but by then

I was too drunk to remember anything

 

I remember that night because while I was still only tipsy

I wondered what it would be like if it was you

Instead of him

The two of us in the same room, no one knowing what you

Once meant to me

 

Truth be told

I don’t think I could do it

Smile and say hello

Laugh over drinks

Pretend things between us

Are resolved

Today

Nothing matters today

The loneliness is packed in a box

Gathering dust on a cupboard

The unhappiness

Swept under a rug

The hurt, the pain I carry on my shoulders

Sit in a corner of the room

Today, I get to breathe

Inhale and exhale

Without the usual tightness in my chest

Today, I can speak without choking over

My words

I can smile without it

Masking how I truly feel

Today is the kind of day

I must hold on to

And remember

On days when the universe isn't

This kind

iridescent (part 2)

I don't remember you like I used to

Moments that were once treasured

Now forgotten

Like most things of the past

And people too

But there was this one day

When it rained from morn to eve

So gloomy and cold

A day of hot tea

And warmth like I've not known since

On this gloomy day

You wore uncharacteristically bright colours

And when we went outside

Against the dark grey sky

Was a rainbow

I look back to this day

And realise just how much happiness

And perhaps even love

I let fall through my fingers

Before the hopelessness sets in

Tell yourself a lie

Before the hopelessness sets in

Convince yourself that there is

Some truth to your words

These will anchor you

Help you keep your eyes on the shore

Even when the seas get rough

And skies cry and scream in agony

Tell yourself of the places you will visit someday

The man you will go on a date with

The drinks you will have with friends

Laughter, joy

A sense of belonging

Love

Tell yourself these lies

Before the hopelessness sets in

Before you find yourself

Staring at a wall for two hours

Feeling nothing

yclept (part 2)

The first thing I thought of when I saw yclept

-the word we are supposed to write or doodle about today-

Was you

But of course, I wouldn't dare

You only belong here, you see

What's funny is that as I sat down, thinking about you

Trying to come up with an idea that wasn't connected to you

Your name showed up on my laptop screen

And even though it was someone else with the same name as you

It made me laugh

The universe sure has a wicked sense of humour

This one's for you

They say you should never date a writer

(And I suppose, an artist or a singer)

Because you will find yourself in their work

 

Something you did or said

Will be done or said by a character in a story

And another will sit hunched over a book

Or smile after that first sip of hot tea in the evening

Sit under a mango tree with their eyes closed

Share a slice of cake in a quiet cafe

Just the way you once did

 

But this is not what you need to fear

Finding yourself in a hundred different works of fiction

I'd say is one of the perks of dating a writer

 

What you do need to fear is the documentation

Of the pain you left them with

The heartbreak, the rejection, the betrayal

The inability to love thereafter

Finding raw emotion in their work

And knowing you are responsible for it

 

Knowing others know you are too

For it's not difficult to put one and one together

When suddenly your pictures are taken off their social media

And their words take on a sad tone

 

Now that is what you should fear

About dating a writer

(And I suppose, an artist or a singer)

I'm so tired of this particular life

I'm so tired of this particular life

Whatever's good about it

I can't truly appreciate because I am consumed by a fear

Of losing it all

Of waking up one day and realising

None of those things had ever been mine

And whatever's bad about it?

Whatever's missing?

My mind uses it as ammo against me

You are useless because of that one thing you got wrong

No one will ever find you attractive. You are never enough

Pathetic really, that you still hope and yearn