Missing you 

Life is happening and never have I felt so uncomfortable. 

I hope you’ve stopped drinking Coke. I hope you eat vegetable. 

I hope you cleaned your room and chucked my socks away. 

I hope you continued your driving lessons and getting that motorbike you’ve always wanted. 

I hope you carry a torch with you this time when you travel to those dark places. 

I hope you are nice to your dad. 

I hope you don’t jump into any silly spaces. 

I hope your soul is still with you. 

Our love, Love.

Our love was sweet,

Innocent and fragile,

Like a child.

Our love was like a child.

And the school that we went to, a place we hold dear to the days,

days of wonder and days of play,

we take to our graves.

Remain in my dreams,

and now I stand there, in front of the tree with the lady birds,

with the wind passing my face,

Realising that you will no longer be around,

You, the boy, always making sounds.

Looking out the window,

Always getting into trouble

Touching the bugs and the animals.

Making fun of the girls,

Running till the school day ends,

You, the boy who just wanted to be my friend.

 

Language

You spoke with the animals, you spoke using sounds. You cut your sentences-like a baby. There was no other way for me to enter, if I did not speak the same. You have sharp teeth and gnawed at my waist. You kiss my nose and put my feet on your face. And I was just there, letting you do all those things to me, admiring the beautiful creature that you are. And for a while, I did not mind. Until, the days multiplied and I slowly began to feel morphed into one of your animals. I am animal, I am human of a kind. But my name got lost and my essence got buried in the great fields of your farm. And as I called out to be heard, you continued to speak your language. You were not interested in learning mine.

Do you know how hard it is to learn a language? One that is not yours?

The moment you got uncomfortable, you went back to your farm. The unfamiliarity disrupted your workings. You would perceive it as change- a change to who you are. So you chose not to spend anymore time with it. But its just a language, love.

You couldn’t meet me half-way.  And I would be there, waiting, hopeful. With a shovel in my hand, standing beside the path I dug out for you. I put lamp posts too. But you felt safer with the animals.

 

Not you

Slow learner I am. Normalised. My breath does not deepen, my heart does not pace as fast and my head does not heat up. So much anger tonight. So much fright. We are just humans who want to be loved. Tonight under the half-moon, we revealed the creatures that grew along our backbones. My left wrist is bruised and your chest must be red. How do we recover from this one? It went too far tonight and I know you will torment yourself the coming days in my absence. And I will replay the dark moments in my head over and over again until I am forced to put my focus elsewhere to daily happenings. I feel a hole in my stomach, my heart aches, my eyes red and dry. Its happened again. Each week is a different event. Gosh we must be sick in the head. What will it take to break?

First blog post

I beat around the bush a lot. I get given an essay question, one that is fairly straight forward and a due date. I don’t tackle the answer head on. Instead, I find leads that ‘almost’ answer the question. I grab both arms and legs of this assignment and pull it all the way to its due date. Subconsciously, I some-what already know the answer to the question, or at least the quickest route to get there. But I choose to exert my energy to planning out how I’m going to get it done. And just when I find that golden article or that reference that will really give my essay depth, I walk away. This is more than procrastination.