If I sought you out, would it make you happy
Let my last look linger on you, would you hold my gaze
If I hanker and want more would you close up
Tearing up within, trying to find you
Every paroxysm of delight a reminder
Had you been close would the streets look the same
I stumble and let you down
Fully comprehending how it feels to never know
Each tiny gesture a ballooning burst
Expecting you to shield me from you



School was a whirlwind of free-falling grades and some misplaced attribution of  good writing that never reflected in my grades. Report writing seemed at first like a muzzle. It took me a while to realise that it actually tempers the literary extravagance that I’m tempted to liberally help myself to.

How do I create an imagery through words without getting caught up in self-centredness? Are the big words carefully chosen for their dramatic appeal or because it lends to the substance of a sentence?

The fascination with big words and long-winded sentences persisted till words were chopped, phrases were hacked and it didn’t even seem particularly ruthless. Surprisingly, the remaining words were standing fine on their own.

If the conscious projection of the self is too mediated, I probably have to live with it. I cannot subconsciously tell myself to do what comes most naturally. This is NOT INCEPTION 😛

Once More

You wouldn’t see if it stared you in the face
Bleeding comfort shrinks space
If it was the only thing left
Would you cradle it to your chest?
Knowing the travelled tortuous paths
Unable to resist the beckoning looks standing out stark
To step away like a limb ripped
Gathering strength to still it
Choosing agony over pain every time
Sucking up the warmth inside
I would give it to you
Not looking back once too