Thursday, November 25, 2010

Footsteps speak.

Amazing is what you call bringing life to that heartbeat which sees what life is, and calling it your own.
Amazing is what you call letting time nurture and not forget, remember and not regret.
Amazing is what you call this love that drives everyone insane until you realise what this life is all about.
And she whispered into delicate hearts, "Don't close your eyes now. This time, we'll wait. This time, we'll survive. This time, we'll do it all purely because I tell you it's possible."

Beautiful and Broken

Sometimes you can go your whole life not knowing what's right in front of you.
Sometimes you can be perfectly aware of what you have, and not know what to do with it.

And sometimes, you can make a million mistakes, and have a billion ways to do something about it as each second ticks by and regret begins to appear and make sardonic comments at what slowly becomes.

She asked herself why people do the things they do, forgive and love easily, and never return what they never saw.
But she never asked herself why people let fear stop them from doing what they do, or forgiving with a heart that is too wounded to love, and close their eyes each time it's time to give.

Unanswered questions? They made her wonder is ignorance really is bliss.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Innocent, gentle, perfection.

And he'd stare her down, look her right in the soul and mutter these words that were his silent prayer.

"I know I loved you like the swan who bathed in sunlight before starry nights would discover secrets and I know I loved you like the heart of a hummoingbird that danced to the beat of silent hope. I know I loved you like the perfect window in that broken and worn out cottage that stands lonesome in the woods, like the crackpot of an elderly man who said my eyes sparkle. I know I loved you like an intimate summer's day that smelt like autumn leaves and lavender and I know I loved you like your hair under the moonlit night that we spent waving away every tragedy that ever was. And I know I loved you like the red roses tired of the tight grip exerted by nervous cold fingers, each time a date on the calendar was crossed out with a disappointed sigh.

Believe me when I say, I know I loved you like the million times I never said it. "

And meanwhile she sits a hundred miles away, dirty blond hair hiding every line on her face that held a story to be told, every inch of her skin that burned with the blurred fragments of happy endings that belonged to lost fairytales. Bittersweet, she sits gracefully.

Innocent, gentle, perfection.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

What is larger than life swallows age

And even after cold winters arrived each year with a sense of deja vu and left with stories that would be told in decades to come,
even after trips and falls were accustomed to and bruised knees were assets of their own,
even after locks of golden hair would be adorned with red ribbons stored in wooden drawers; a mark of innocence,
even after crossroads were overcome with something none other would know of except that sincere companion peacefully asleep next to her in bed,
even after frail, weak hands and wrinkled smiles hid beauty from the world but not love from wise eyes that would co-exist till the afterlife,

The vows stood strong and steady and never gave way.
And so the diamond ring shines on her finger, a solemn witness of remarkable life.

A million times isn't enough.

For some reason, she returns to dark alleys each time to get glanced at by disappointment, and forlorn looks which she is well too familiar with. And summer sets in while they ignore the cold fingers that never gained warmth, no once until they embraced a reality of strong, hard, grips that could only strengthen what eyes never saw and what hands only slightly indicated once upon a journey.


And it sounded like something special each time they said it.
Even though it had been said a million times over.