Tag Archives: lost

The listener

18 Feb

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He could feel the burden lift off his shoulders as he neared the end of his shift. The booth that he had been entrusted with was starting to feel like a prison he had unwittingly signed up for.
He began packing his belongings when he spotted a woman walking towards the booth. He ducked under the small little desk, hoping she wouldn’t see him. He knew he’s job as a ‘listener’ wouldnt end for another 5 minutes but he simply didnt want to listen any more.

Listening used to be fun, it made him happy that he was helping another soul relief its burdens but having been stuck in this booth for the last 3 years made him weary.

He shifted his weight clumsily while hiding behind the table and knocked the chair behind him over (he was a rather big fella you see).

“Are you still open? I won’t take long.”

Damn chair.

He pulled himself up from his hiding spot and took the seat next to the veiled partition.

“Yes, for another 5 minutes.”

“Thank you.”

He sighed silently as the woman began her story.

He wasn’t paying any attention to her words really – they were all the same.
Man and woman fall in love, he falls out of love and she begs him to stay. He refuses and she breaks into a million pieces.
It was like all women were schooled to react the same way, all they needed was the right moment.

Young and old, plain or beautiful.

They were all the same.

He was getting impatient and rolled up his sleebes to check the time when she asked him

“Will he finally see me if I did that?”

He chose the easiest and most noncommittal answer he could think of,
“Its your choice. If you think it’ll work then do it.”

“Alright.”

He sensed desperation and resignation in her voice.

They all sound the same..”

He reminded her that his time was up and she has to leave.

“I understand. ”

He heard her skirt rustle as she stood to leave. The door creaked ever so slightly as it was being pushed open. He waited till he could no longer hear her footsteps before he stepped out of his booth.

Her voice was strangely still lingering in his mind; she sounded really familiar, like he knew her from somewhere a long time ago.

He shook the thought out of his head as he stepped out of the building.

The sun was still up, and he turned his eyes downwards to avoid its glare; and thats when he saw it.

A shadow.
Growing darker and smaller as it neared the ground.
He looked up to see her red skirt fluttering in the air as gravity pulls it closer to its heart.

It all ended with a thud.
Her head had smashed in from the impact and there was blood everywhere.
Especially on him.

I know her..

Her face was half gone but he remembered her.

They met in the hospital where she was sent to after she was beaten half to death by her boyfriend.

They spoke.

She asked for help.

And he told her to look for him.

He told her he could help her.

Thoughts

27 Apr

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She sat at her table, staring blankly at the screen infront of her, while the so called discussion swirled around her as background noise.

She wondered what was wrong with these people, the answer was right there staring at them in their faces and yet, none of them saw it.

It was right there.

Everyone was just skirting the issue, typing furiously on their keyboards – the actual content of what was being taken down as ‘note’ was secondary to them sounding like they were busy doing something.

She didn’t get it. She couldn’t.

Why does one NEED to pretend like they were busy when they are not?

So as to appear productive, efficient and hardworking, when all they are doing was run around in circles?

Seems just about right.

She couldn’t take the so called ‘discussion’ anymore.

She bent down to pick up her bag from the floor and started chucking her stuff in it.

She could see the puzzled faces looking at her, wondering what the hell she was doing in the middle of a heated discussion;  she didn’t care.

After she had all her stuff inside, she swirled her chair to face the exit, stood up and walked out.

Someone called out to her, but she couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying.

Not that it matters anyway, she just wanted out.

She walked and she waited and she walked agin until she was finially out of the massive, cold, grey building that held her caged for a good part of her life and saw the sun for the first time.

Not that she has never seen the sun before, just not in that way.

It was exceptionally bright, warm and not to sound too cheesy, but the the sunlight hitting her face full on actually felt hopeful.

For the first time in a very long time, she felt like she could breathe again.

A smile slowly creeped across her face –  she was enjoying the moment.

And then, reality hit her.

She had just walked out of a job that she desperately needed to keep her home and to pay her bills.

The smile quickly left, replaced by tears of anxiety.

What was she suppose to do now?

Where can she go?

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing and she felt desperation again.

Maybe I’ll just call in sick.. That I had a nervous breakdown or something.

I’m sure they’ll understand.

Quiet nights and quiet stars

11 Mar

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She stares at the woman looking back at her in the mirror, and she realized she didn’t recognize that face anymore.

It’s grown wider, fine to be perfectly honest, fatter.

Lines were starting to show around her eyes.

And her eyes.

They used to look so bright and full of life but now, they reminded her of the fish she bought from the market yesterday.

Glassy, dull and lifeless.

It was only through the mirror that she was reminded of how much time has slipped by so quietly.
What terrible things time does to one.

She closed her eyes, and took in a deep breathe to shake off the memories that were starting to come back.

Time has taken away her youth, her litheness and her beauty but it hasn’t taken away her memories.

Memories.
Just as terrible as time.

She remembered a time when she was still young.
And he was still around.

How he would hold her hand as they strolled down the streets.
How he used to make her laugh so loud, the neighbours had to tell her to keep it down.

She remembered how they would climb up to the roof to watch stars on quiet nights.
Sitting next to each other, hand in hand.
Both saying nothing.
And they kissed.

It wasn’t anything spectacular, wasn’t even passionate.
It was an innocent, slightly awkward kiss that started it all.

That was more than sixty years ago

A smile came across her face as she gently touched her once supple lips.
It felt just like yesterday.

A certain sadness swept over her.

Wait for me, I’m coming…

She looked herself in the mirror one last time before leaving the washroom.

I’m coming.

She went into their bedroom and picked out his favourite yellow dress.
He called her his sunshine and loved her in yellow.
She lowered herself slowly on their bed to put on her shoes.
Tears started to fall as she remembered how he used to help her put on her shoes.

I’m coming.

She lifted her head and wiped away the tears.
She looked into the mirror on her way out rearranging her slivery hair, and took her coat with her.
The medication that she took was starting to kick in, so she took each step with extreme care as she went down the stairs into the waiting car downstairs.

Wait for me, I’m coming.

She sat quietly in the back of the car as children discussed the details.
Whenever they asked for her opinion, she gave a smile and said nothing.
The car quickly fell into an awkward silence.

She wound down the window to feel the cool night breeze.
The night was quiet and the stars bright.

Just like that night

She smiled again at the memories that came back and thanked the stars for letting her keep them.

They reached the hospital and walked her to his room and left them alone.

They looked at each other and smiled.

You look beautiful.
He said as she sat next to him on the bed.
You look just as dashing young man
Come lie next to me, I missed you so much.

She laid next to him, with his arms around her body.
Just like the way it used to be.
A certain smile came upon her face as she laid there.

I’m coming with you, don’t go too soon.

She knew it was it terribly selfish to leave their children like that but she couldn’t bear to live another day without him by her side.

She lifted her head and kissed him on his cheek.
His eyes were closed and he looked so peaceful.

Wait for me.

She held him closer and closed her eyes.
She could feel the medications’ full effects flowing through her body.

I’m coming.

Tell me a story

7 Feb

klimt_danaeCome here,
Lie next to me.
Tell me a story,
and hold my hand.

Tell me your story,
That I don’t already know.
About your past, the present and your future too.

Tell me about that time,
When you were young,
You climbed a tree and broke your tooth.

About the girl,
Who broke your heart,
And made you so.

Sing me the song,
That makes your heart sing,
That makes you tear,
And makes you weak.

Tell me your dreams,
Your hopes and pain.

I know,
I maybe not be that one to see them through.
But on the very least,
Let me share them with you.

I know,
I will not always be in your heart.
But for now,
Give me that little space and let me in.

Let me lie here with you,
Just for the moment.

Tell me a story,
A story about you.
True or false,
It doesn’t matter,
As long as the story is from you.

How we forget

25 Jan

staircase
 

You start innocently enough, forgetting how his skin feels under your finger tips.

You forget the contours of his face, his body and the textures of his skin.

You forget the warmth and the scent he leaves behind whenever you touch.

The scent so strong, it makes you relive each moment you’ve spent together in vivid memory.

But soon and eventually, you will begin to lose that scent.

You will forget if he smells of musk or leather.
Or was it sandlewood and cigerettes?

His scent will escape your memories, slowly but eventually.

You start to forget the colour of his eyes – a colour so vivid, you never had any problem remembering them before.

Was it a light playful shade of brown or that seductive shade of green you love?

The colours are meshing, they no longer stand out.
Its getting harder and harder to recall each day.

Soon enough, they look like empty spaces to you.

The last thing you’d forget is his name, his voice.

The name that brings a torrid of emotions.
They haunt you like ghosts of a distant past.

You will begin to forget how smoothly his name rolls off your tongue, off his.

You will learn to forget.

Because that’s what time does to people and their memories.

It slowly eats away and leaves you with nothing but hazy memories of what used to be.

And eventually, even that would fade too.

Leaving you to wonder what is it that you were trying to hold on to for so long.

Is it okay I be me?

15 Jan

nishe-gustav-klimt.jpg
Is it really okay not to be okay?
Is it okay to be all broken and messed up inside?
Is it really okay to feel like you would never be loved?
Or that you’d be stuck in this rut for an awful long time?

Is it really okay to be like Alice,
Going down that rabbit hole and fully enjoy the experience?
Is it really okay to stick out like a sore thumb,
In the sea of beautiful long legged creatures?

Is it really okay to lose control,
And not live up to that expectation every once in a while?
Is it really okay to dream of being a diamond in the rough,
When all you are being told and see are running straight in the opposite direction?

Is it really okay to be labelled fat,
Because you the clothing labels says so?
It is really okay to you yourself,
That the world makes clothes for size 0 women,
But you are not and will never be that?

Is it really okay that I sing,
Even though I know I have a terrible singing voice?
It it okay if I stop pretending for a while,
Just so I can breathe and allow myself to be afraid?

Is it really okay to prefer living in denial,
Because reality can be so cruel sometimes?
Is it okay if the tears flow every once in a while,
Because I am not as strong or brave as you’d like to believe I am?

Is it okay that I be me, with all the baggage I carry with me?
I am trying and learning to let go, move on,
But somethings are easier said than done.

Is it okay I take off this armour,
And give you my mind and soul?
Will you promise to hold it tenderly in your hands,
And nourish it with all the care you can manage?

Is it okay if I just want to lie here for a while,
To feel your warmth and scent while it still lasts,
Without any thought about the future?

All I want, is to be okay for once.

Just once. Continue reading

The agony of wanting

6 Jan

Wanting
1.
lacking or absent: a motor with some of the parts wanting.

2.
deficient in some part, thing, or respect: to be wanting in courtesy.

preposition
3.
lacking; without: a box wanting a lid.

4.
less; minus: a century wanting three years.

The feeling of wanting –
To feel as though your soul was lacking,
Deficient in any inconceviable way;
Is an agony that no one should ever have to go through.

It is an agony that drives men crazy,
In search of the so called truth that many do not find.
It is an agony that drives one to compulsion – form and manner are of your own choice.

Druken reveries, lost in her own thoughts.
Her own world.
Laughing on the outside even though she was dying inside.
Her compulsion leads her through a never ending chase,
Further and further down the rabbit hole.

Because in her reveries,
She is whole.

She is one and she is all.
She is many things that she thought she could never be awake.

In her reveries,
Things made more sense,
As an outsider viewing into her own personal movie.

She laughed at her own naviety,
Her idealistic self.
But when her laughter stopped,
There was only silence.
She knew she had to wake up soon.

This feeling of wanting,
of inadequacy, lacking and deficiency.
Is an agony no one should ever have to go through she thought.

When she finally awakes,
She sees herself as nothing more a mess.
She tries to clean up and do good,
But it never lasts.

And so the cycle goes on and on,
Until she is finally ready to awake.

but until that day comes,
She continues living in this unbearable agony of wanting.

What is it that you are looking for?

6 Dec

Lonely-Drinking

What is it that you are looking for,
At the bottom of the whisky glass you are holding?
A lover perhaps,
Or the opportunity you missed.

What is it that you are looking for,
In the faces of the women who share your bed?
A warm body to keep the lonely nights at bay,
A replacement for that one who went away,
Or were you looking to fill that emptiness deep inside?

What is it that you are looking for,
Running, travelling from place to place?
A place to finally rest you feet,
A place to clear your mind,
Or simply to forget, erase and start anew?

Where do we go from here?
How do we start afresh?
How do we let go?
What are we looking for?
Why do we always choose to over complicate our lives?