Return to me the light I was born with. The shadows have overstayed their welcome. With the passage of time I get closer to you. Digging a little into the wounds, tending to a few, still uncovering something new. I've come to know the faint line between the defenses and the "You". I'll meet you as me and not trauma we've been through. I'm flowing unto you with deep breaths and deliberate gratitude. I'm embracing you with warmth that from a distance you fondly viewed. The baggage is not you but your perception skewed.
It's not a race my dear, we can take our time to ride. A tiny step forward is always a matter of pride. Mental effort may be invisible but your will is not feeble. Brace yourself in the winter for in the spring you shall bloom.-
Your magnetic eyes. I crave their pull that draws me into you. You hide it well, but your eyes bare it all. The way you try to read me. I watch your gaze digging into my soul. You want to know if there is a piece of you that I carry in me. You're intrigued by my mystery and I'm flattered by your curiosity.
Your deep eyes. They are infinite. They carry a darkness that dims everything else but you. If I look too deep I fear I'll see my reflection staring right back at me. But isn't that where I feel most at home? It's where I belong.
Your fierce eyes. They are confident. They know no fear to face the truth right before them. They exert their wisdom in my presence. Their power of knowing more than what meets the eyes. The gentle intelligence of a keen observer.
All I want is to keep looking into your eyes. Everyday, every waking moment. Falling in love once again with your beautiful eyes. Your love filled eyes.-
Tangled and twisted like vines that climb the forest ground, my mind knows not where to start nor where to stop. I stare at the outlines of my reflection to recall the familiarity in the strangeness. Yet to my dismay I am met with oblivion. The soft force of motherhood has so effortlessly moulded me into the ultimate act of camouflage. I exist in fragments now. In the various sounds around me. The wails, the sighs, the chuckles, the grunts, the whispers. I exist in the rush of time. The sun, the moon, the hot meals, the empty plates, the warm embraces, the cold showers. "Who am I?" It is a question of privilege, I realise. The privilege of time. The privilege of reflection. The privilege of growth. Privileges often not associated with the ultimate privilege of parenthood. How ironical it is when that very question is the foundation for the fruitful yield of the latter. Pauses in life have become too priceless.
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I'm consuming endlessly- of what, I'm not sure. There is a need to keep filling a space so full and yet still yearning for more. Thoughts are dispersed. The future is vague. The present is lost in the mechanism. I have been set in motion by a collective consciousness. Have I become a spectator in this mass epidemic of suggestibility? How mindlessly overwhelming is the now that I don't even realize that the future has taken over?! I'm taking a long breath now. I feel it. I exhale. Just breathe, that's all you need in this moment.
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Your inner circle speaks volumes about you as a person. They reflect your core beliefs. So choose them wisely. However, before building a tribe, make sure you ask yourself- What do I bring to the table? More often than not, we are quick to find flaws in others and oblivious to our own. Make sure your tribe is worthy of you and you are worthy of your tribe. Let go of the toxic people, embrace the ones that promote growth. You have every right to be selfish about your company and so does the other person.
Sometimes as we grow, the tribe may fall apart. Don't resist this. People grow at different rates. Don't be held back by anyone and don't hold anyone back either.
Learn to trust and be trusted. Learn to love and be loved. Learn to respect and be respected.
If it has to be forced then it's not friendship. Simply let go.-
"In the depth of your eyes resides all the will of mankind
In the curve of your smile lies the resolve that kindles my mind
In the glow of your skin shines the warmth of your soul so kind"
The mirror narrated as I watched myself unwind
I woke up the next day and repeated in my mind
"In the depth of your eyes resides all the will of mankind
In the curve of your smile lies the resolve that kindles my mind
In the glow of your skin shines the warmth of your soul so kind"
And so I learnt to love with self-hate left behind
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we would be deceived. To believe that all that a flower offers is a beautiful sight is akin to how we judge a book by it's cover. Superficial and flawed.
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The moment has just passed by as you scroll through this window. What awaits you is not confined within this screen. You had dreams as an eight year old that have sunk long back into the depths of your foggy mind. Let me remind you my friend that your on-screen facade will be broken one day and you will confront yourself in all honesty. What justification will you have for letting time slip by? Get in touch with your eight year old self. Get back to what you were doing and commit yourself to it. Remind yourself to hustle in the real world- for that is where you have the power to create tangibly! Make yourself proud! :)
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Numbness was me. I hoped to feel. I glanced into your eyes. There I found myself in the purest form I've know. Nurtured like a dream, delicate yet deep. "You've done more justice to me than I have", I whisper. You wipe the tears off my face and say, "if you have a best friend, you don't need a mirror...so I'm just reflecting..."
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Words are subtle in their act of disappearance. When I attempt to hunt them down the alleys of the past, they slither away into crevices out of reach. Love that was once deeply felt becomes inexplicable. Promises made are remembered only through a faint skip of a heartbeat. Faces fade along with the adjectives used to admire them. I almost forget my own reflection in those 'picture-perfect' memories that were once cherished. The passion in those moments that used to drain the ink in my pen seems alien now. Words are almost synonymous with waves in the sense that they give and take in tides that stride along the stretch called time. And yet, I yearn to feel the liberation felt in creating words that will remind me of who I was and who I can be. I await the day they return to burn my fingers to create history.
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