Being vulnerable…

In this day and age, masks seem to be second nature; an answer to shielding the heart from the thorns of life.

People shed their clothes and slip between sheets with others faster than they’d be willing to shed their inhibitions and whisper their fears into the darkness.

How does one then explain to another, what being vulnerable means ?
How does one confess without peeling off clothes or even speak, without letting go of the masks glued perfectly to the outline of one’s face ?

Worries and dreams, the kind that can only be traced out on parchments of skin when the darkest of corners are wrapped in shadows, need to be heard. There’s only so many times you can press your lips against someone else’s and silence their voice because you’d much rather be lost in the desires of the body than nurture the pounding of your heart.

The world is befuddling.

Cheeks don’t feel the warmth of blush when hungry eyes are memorising every curve and dip in your body but voices do hitch and dry when  wishing to explain who you are and what tales make up the veins of your life.

I wish I could cup your face in my hands and breathe my story into mists of stardust while you snuff out my fears like flames from candle wicks.
While I sheds tears of ink, chapters of my life rolling down wet cheeks, you wipe them away with thumbs ready to create blank slates.

You’d nestle me in your arms, and as I press my face close to yours, I’d inhale the fears you hides so well and read the scrolls caged shut in your eyes. I’d hear the thoughts, the ones shrieking inside you, and I’d do my best to sing the nightmares to sleep. As fingers trace the fading scars on your skin, I’d trail hope down every muscle, to ensure there is spring, not autumn.

You’ll smile, teeth clenched in pain and I’d cut my skin open on the clenched jaw that has silently accepted injustice far too many times and the dew drops of scarlet would enrich this entwined tale with the promise of something new, something better.


The intoxicating delight that comes from the unknown, the rush of adrenaline from anxiousness and the headiness from being wary of the unexpected, must needs wait.

For we’re not prepared to be vulnerable just yet.

Till then, we’ll just muster the courage to speak each other’s names in hushed voices, followed by ellipsis’s of unasked questions and unspoken statements. We’ll close our eyes, faces pressed so close, we might as well count every freckle, and hope to welcome these vulnerabilities in the infinity of the dream world.

Till then, we’ll just make do with enveloping each other in the warmth of sheets and sin.


One Of Those Days…

Today is one of those days,
When I miss you…
A little too much, A little too often.

Today is one of those days,
When I have to press the palm of my hand
Against my chest, consoling my heart,
That is beating a little too hard,
Trying to bear the almost physical pain…
Making it quite difficult to breathe.

Today is one of those days,
When I wish I could walk into my room,
And find you sitting on my bed,
Holding a cup of coffee with way too much sugar,
Smiling at me.

Today is one of those days,
When all I want to do,
Is place my head against your chest,
As we watch our favourite T.V. show
While I fall asleep, listening to your laugh,
Your arm firmly holding me to you.

Today is one of those days,
When I want you lying in my lap,
My fingers running through your hair,
Easing away your worries with every stroke of my hands,
Stealing kisses whenever we both can.

Today is one of those days,
When I wish we would be laughing about something absurd,
And I would abruptly stop,
Turning to look at you with a sour look,
A reaction to some comment you would have made,
And you in turn would simply laugh harder.

Today is one of those days,
When I wish you would cup my face in your hands,
Press your forehead against mine,
And gently rub the tip of your nose against mine,
Filling me with all the peace in the world.

Today is one of those days,
When I wish I could feel your arm curling around my waist,
Looking for my hand,
And on finding it,
Weaving your fingers through it.

Today is one of those days,
When I wish I could hear you
Call out to me by the term of endearment
Meant just for me
And feel the comforting warmth
Flood me all over.

Today is one of those days,
When it is you I want to run to,
And whisper my fears
And have your unshakeable faith and belief,
Dry up the tears that refuse to stop falling.

Today is one of those days,
When it gets hard to come to terms with the fact,
That you are gone
And not mine anymore.
That I can not actually have these wishes come true,
That I have to instead find comfort in the darkness
And silence that now fills your very palpable absence.

Today is one of those days,
When despite all my efforts,
I find myself seated in the garden of our memories,
Revisiting every single moment,
Trying not to crumble from the pain that I have locked away.

Today is one of those days,
When my lies just aren’t good enough,
And I wish things were different
And finally face the honest truth,
That despite living life and putting one foot in front of the other,
I would much rather do it with you by my side.

Today is one of those days,
When I remember and sense,
How it felt to love you
And to have you love me in turn.

Today is one of those days,
When I would much rather believe
That you never really loved me,
That all those letters and words you spoke
Were anything but true.
For it makes it easier to understand
How you gave up and forgot why you loved me,
Hoping that it might ease the pain
Of accepting that you truly have left me.

Today unfortunately,
Just happens to be
One of those days…