Striped Socks, Reprise

My bed smells of him long after he's gone.
As do my pillows.
My sheets.
Sweet smell of intimacy.
And endless slumber.
But it's over now.
My heart is strangely broken.

My heart skips a beat,
The joys of waking up next to another soul.
So innocent, as he sleeps.
Unfamiliar lands don't seem like a scare.
Just a holiday.
Just a trip.

But he's gone.
So far away.
I try and forget his face.

Oh, the void.
Kills every time, with every guy.
Why haven't I gotten used to it already!

We frolic like children, without a care in the world.
His mouth open only slightly, as he orgasms.
I take a mental picture of his face.
For I want to remember.
His eyes.
His lips.
His beard.
His hands.
His torso.
I want to hold him forever, for some strange reason.

I kiss his face incessantly.
I want to fill him with so much love that all the dark in his heart goes away.
All his miseries.
Sorrows.
Fears.
Heartache and heartbreak.

I want to share my love.

For it spreads like a disease.

One I can't control.

We're lying on the floor
Looking up at the stars
So beautiful
I wish for the moment to never end
For it is pure perfection
Two souls coming together.
On a summer night.

He kisses me with careless abandon.
I want to keep kissing him forever.
We effortlessly slide into each other's arms.
Like veteran lovers.
Fitting so comfortably, like his striped socks.

Games People Play

We're rocking back and forth
Or would it be politically correct to say up and down instead?
I'm in you.
I'm into you.


My friends and I are snorting drugs in a kitchen.
We're wired and bouncing around like toys.
Wasted humans.
Human waste.


I like the way you look at me.
I know you want me.
You know I know.
Make a move already.


My friends and I are hatching our conspiracies.
We're going to take over the world one day.
Be my bitch.
Be my knight in shining armour.

If

If I told you it was yours,
would you make me keep it?
would you force me to keep it?

Would you believe me,
would you trust me,
if I told you it was yours?

If I told you it was yours,
would you love me?
would you console me?

Would you hold me?
Tell me that all will be okay?
It is you I need the most.

If I told you it was yours,
would you accept it?
would you at least try to be by my side?

I am scared.
I am hoping it isn't what I think it is.
I wish you loved me. I wish we were in love.
But that's okay I guess, accidents happen sometimes.

I will deal with this on my own.
I will deal with this on my own.
It is my cross to bear.
You will never even know.

Rain Fall Down

You can never win if your heart is not pure.
Stop playing victim in situations you aren't.
You're the villain, you stupid boy.
You're the villain of your stories.


I know when someone else makes love to you, you'll be thinking of me.
My body.
My heart.
My head.
My sex.
Your hands on my back.
My hand on your dick.
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.

You can woo all the people in the world.
But they'll never love you like I did.
You can put your dick in her face
Her hands
Her vagina
And yet she can never be me.


It's just a matter of a good fuck.
You won't get it though.
I dare you, I double dare you.

I will haunt you for as long as I live
Eat away at your conscience
Reminding you of your ugliness every time you touch someone else.
I dare you to get my sex out of your head.
I double dare you.

And as for me, I'm trying to be an adult.
You know I don't kiss and tell.
I have my flaws, but I am invincible.
I have been through your hell.

Misadventures/Athlete

He's like the hero in movies, the one all girls pine for.
What a pretty face.
One I can't forget.

He is a gentleman, or so he appears to be.
What can an athlete and a musician possibly have in common?
So much.
So much actually.

I am scared he will fall in love and I will break his heart.
So young.
So innocent.
I am scared I will ruin him for all women, forever.

I tend to do that sometimes, don't know how but I do.

His eyes twinkle when he laughs.
So adorable.
I wish I could wrap him up and take him home.
And then maybe wrap my legs around him eventually.

Will I see him again?
I can't make up my mind.

But I am scared.
I will ruin him for all women, forever.

Verbal Vomit

Am I talking too fast?

Am I staring too hard?

Please don't judge me,

I only want to kiss you, a little more perhaps.

Am I spacing out too much?

Am I too involved?

Please don't hate me,

I only want to love you. 

Lover Of Lovers

I still think about you sometimes.

I wonder if you think about me too.

Do you love me still?

What if I said I love you, too.

But I'll never come back to you.

You pushed me away, threw me out.

I can't return to you anymore.

All the lies and slander.

Your desperation.

Your infidelity.

So many good things, too many bad.

Sex.

So much sex.

Oral.

Anal.

Top.

Bottom.

Left.

Right.

Side.

Upfront.

Standing.

Sitting

Lying down.

Bending forward.

Bending back.

Bondage.

Submission.

Role-play.

Or plain vanilla sex.

A rush, everytime. 

Do you remember the first million times we kissed? Under the moonlight, not a soul around. 

One could make a movie out of our lives.

But so much violence, so much pain

I didn't mind how you'd handle my body.

Paint your pictures.

Mark your territory.

Kiss every inch of it.

It felt like you worshipped my body sometimes.

It felt like I knew every inch of your skin.

Strange familiarity.

You knew my kinks and I knew yours.

Our deepest fantasies, our biggest dreams.

Was it even real what we had or was it just the drugs?

It makes me sad to think that you'd probably try and recreate what we had with someone new, as will I someday.

It makes me lose hope in the concept of "love".

Maybe I wasn't all that fantastic.

Maybe we didn't really have a connection that goes beyond words, it was probably a little fantasy I had conjured in my head.

My heart refuses to let go, make room for someone new.

They won't fuck me like you did.

They won't fuck me like you do.

Off and On

When someone takes your clothes off, piece by piece.
There's a fire burning in your lions.
You want him, more than anything in the world, you want him.

You kiss.
Your tongues find each other.
They dance.
Mate.
Connect.
Become one.

He holds you in his arms, you're in love.
All of a sudden.
Your guards drop.
You're naked and vulnerable in front of him.
The two of you know you want to make love.
For a change.
Probably your first time.
You want his love more than his hunger this time.
He treats you gently, doesn't reprimand you like the other times when you two've frolicked in public spaces, cars, rooftops, rooms etc etc.
He enters you without his guard on.
His heart is his dick.
So gentle, so loving, so satisfying.
You don't orgasm but you feel strangely ecstatic, like you're on drugs.
You feel whole for a fraction of a second and you want to hold on to that feeling forever.

You make endless and eternal love on an afternoon as the sunlight soaks in through the curtains. You're in his room, you want to be in his heart.
Hours seem like mere minutes.
The deed is done, you're back to wearing your clothes again.

Why must he tell you that he loves you when he doesn't.
He mistakes lust for love.
You mistake love for lust.
Game over.

Newfound Singlehood:Observations

1.  The ratio of man:woman at social gatherings is terrible. Even if you don't want it, you will find yourself chatting with more men than women.
2. At what point does a conversation become flirting? I am so terrible at flirting. I have the charm of a cockroach. It's sad and hilarious at the same time.
3. It is now very clear that I only pique the interest of 30 somethings and about-to-be 30 somethings. For me, it is scary because I still identify as a girl and not yet a woman. Like a game, I try and pick their brains, try to figure them out. It's exhausting though, they're tougher nuts to crack.
4. My options are endless but why can't I find a person I actually like and want to be with? I'm not compromising anymore, if you want me then you'll have to woo me, seduce me, possibly make me fall in love.
5. Nobody tells you how lonely it gets from time to time. You don't want to spend so much time choosing from available options, ultimately I'd like to hit it off with that one special person and be with them and only them. I wish I could function like a guy in these matters, I'd just fuck and forget. It's a lot more convenient that way.
6. I am totally crushing on a douchebag at the moment. Why, heart, why do you do this to me every time?
7. All these months of being single has made me realise that human beings are conceited, full of themselves and most of them are damaged beyond repair. I almost regret sticking my tongue down this one guy's throat who will just not stop talking about his ex girlfriends and lovers. OH MY GOD, IT IS THE WORST THING, to have to patiently listen to people go on and on and on about their sexual/romantic history. Why do grown-ass men do this!
8. Women are wicked. Stay away from them. DO NOT fall in love with another woman. DO NOT. Just don't, no good will come of it.

Done By None

The older I grow, the more I am sure that dating men isn't quite my thing. I love dick, but I hate the person it comes attached with, usually almost always. The last person I was in a relationship of sorts with, scarred me beyond repair and somehow it's not even about him, all men are like that. At least almost all the ones I have been with so far in life. I don't get men, I just don't understand the way they think and function. First they chase you, woo you only because they want to sleep with you. It's good initially and then they have this obsessive need to look around elsewhere. You can be a goddess in bed and yet your will find it hard to control his roving eye. Why? I don't get why sex is so important for men, sex without any connection, without any intimacy. I need to feel connected to the person I am having sex with, how can I have good sex otherwise? I probably won't even orgasm.
Why can't women orgasm as easily as men?

I have often dated people who I have been obviously too good for and yet it is they who have treated me like shit. It's a little absurd when I think of all the vile things people have done and said. But why? Why are men so cruel?
I'm done with men. All of them. I'm sick and tired of pining after guys only to have them crush my heart into pieces. I think I have been going about this all wrong. I need to find me a good woman with the same relationship goals as me.

Your loss, men of the world.
I could have been the best you've ever had, but you missed your chance.

My Head, My Rules

I have been working out religiously these last few weeks and even if it doesn't show just yet, I feel so incredibly good about my body these days. Truth be told, I had let myself go and I think I reached my melting point when I'd see how ugly I was starting to become. Fat in all the wrong places, so unfit, so inflexible. But I have sworn to myself that I will not let my body go there again, it's a scary place and sometimes there's no coming back when you get there. I'm young and I refuse to let my youth go to waste like this. Shit happens but you've got to pick yourself up and get back on the road again.

I am excited to let someone see me naked, see how lean I've become. I want someone to enjoy my body, pleasure it. I don't know who and I don't know when just yet but I am looking forward to it, yes.

I make all these rules as I grow. The latest one being to not let people fall in love with me. People fall in love very easily and that kills me sometimes because I can't seem to reciprocate. This is exactly why I hate dating boys. They're much too naive, too young. They fall in love at the drop of a hat, just like I fall for older guys. It's a perpetual love triangle.
I may be a brat but I have a heart, I don't want people to undergo unnecessary misery because of me. I have been in similar situations where I've been strung along and trust me, it's not a good feeling. I hate it when people charm your pants off and then leave you stranded. I hate it. I don't want to be that person to someone else. I refuse to be a villain. I refuse to be the bad guy just for kicks.

But anyway, coming back to my body. I feel good. I feel great. The more I work out, the more I start loving my body and subsequently myself. It's the greatest romance I think-to love yourself.
I have battled body issues for a long time, since the rape to be precise and these days I don't feel inhibited or conscious to let people see me naked anymore. I give myself a pat on the back for that. Sure I still have body issues, but there are other things, bigger things in my life that I worry about these days.

It's not really a milestone, although it is something.

Stone Cold

You're sober as a child, it feels strange. You're in highschool, almost. When did intoxicants take over your life, your sex life to be more precise? It's awkward, it's highly awkward. You make all the wrong moves, he pushes all the wrong buttons. It's a mess. But something tells you to keep going, maybe it won't be that bad, you just need to calm your nerves. You feel a strange sense of pressure, you assume he does too. He kisses you and this time you remember. You remember the details. You kiss him with grace, you're not a drunken mess this time. You're finally in control of your body as is he.
Your brain takes photographs of his body. He's tall, you stand on your toes to reach his face.You enjoy the challenge. He's also older than anyone you've ever been with. It's strange and yet quite comfortable.
Little by little, your inhibitions drop. Your body may be flawed, but your body is all you have to offer to him.
You kiss him, see what works and what doesn't. He's very different from the last person you were with. He enjoys your body, but doesn't tear it apart like a wolf. He grabs you and you want it as much as he does.
You like it.
You crave for more.
So wet, as he slips his fingers into you.
You can't believe you're doing this, but it feels good. Now you can't seem to stop, you want him inside you, to fuck the shit out of you.
The feeling is good,
So good.
You had almost forgotten how good it felt.

Shame

I thought about the Monster today, after a long time. I remembered that sinking feeling in my stomach. I'd wait for hours and hours for him to call, but he never did. I called him, always. But why did he string me along?
Why would a teenager, an adult ever be interested in a 12 year old girl?
His perversion haunts me till date.
Why would he stick his dick inside me knowing fully well that I was in love with him and that I knew nothing about sex?

But the older I grow, the more I find the Monster in every man I meet. They all turn out to be the same, the way they look at me, the way they touch me, the way they abandon me.

Are all men monsters?
Will I ever find a man who will treat me right, not abandon me?

I'm so sick of falling in love. I take one step forward and retract immediately. Out of shame, out of so much gut-wrenching shame. I'm never good enough. Nobody wants someone with as much baggage as me. I feel sick. Sometimes I feel like killing myself. That feeling's been growing every day.
I have a friend or two who distract me, keep me company. But they can't be with me at all times, can they? They have their own lives and their own set of problems to take care of.

I spend hours trying to figure out what will stop men from abandoning me. I think that is what hurts the most, when they abandon you after they're done taking what they want from you. It feels like my life is stuck at the same juncture, no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to break away from it. Everything is a loop. Everything is a loop.

Sometimes I wonder why I wasn't raped violently and killed after. It would have been so much easier. Living is so hard. Living alone is so hard. Living alone with so much shame, so much pain. I try to be so strong all the time, but I'm 23 and I can't do this anymore. I can't figure out how to stop this sinking feeling in my stomach and make it go away. I don't know how to make the choking go away.
At the end of the day, when I take a look in the mirror, I can't figure out why men do what they do. I have flaws, many many flaws, but are they the reason I'm abandoned?

I was born the way I am. I did not chose my body. Is it my fault I look the way I do? Is it my fault I get abandoned? Perhaps. Maybe I deserved to get raped. Maybe I will get raped again someday. Worse, maybe I will keep getting my heart broken by men I fall in love with and place my trust in. That's what ugly people get perhaps. I always figured that a good heart and a good soul was all you needed to get people to like you. But this world is cruel, it doesn't work that way. I'm not cut out for this world, it only brings me endless melancholy. I am an outcaste and always will be. I'd much rather die than live each day as a dead man, like this.

I want to die soon. I can't live with this pain anymore, it's killing me from the inside.

Death, come to me, I wait for you. Please.

I am not a believer and yet I pray every day now. I don't pray for a better life. I don't pray for the pain to go away, the shame to fade. I only pray for death. I want to die. I can't be strong anymore. I've been fighting this feeling over a decade now and it will never really go away. The last person I was with brought it all back. I can't deal with this heartache anymore. I hope the universe will be kind and listen to my prayers someday. I don't mind a long and painful death, I will be happy knowing that it will end one day.
I just want to die.
Only my death will bring me salvation.

1:23 am

"I miss the girl I knew"


V and I had the strangest relationship. I met him when I was around 16 and after a summer of crushing on him and finally ending up cheating on my boyfriend with him, we became friends. But of the strange kind. We were never in a relationship but neither was our friendship platonic. He'd give the largest love-bites, sexy was the new cool. To make matters worse for me, he was such a darn good kisser. I swear to god I was addicted to kissing him. He was a drug I couldn't stop doing even though I knew he was really bad for me. His reputation as a casanova was set in stone and I knew I was just one of the many, like one of Sebastian's conquests from Cruel Intentions, but I didn't care. I figured that I wouldn't be young forever. 
I was in high school for pete's sake, it was a crazy time for my hormones. They were quite out of control. This was also the time when I was going through a self-destructive phase when I felt dirty and used up from the rape. I figured I could sleep with whoever I wanted to, it's not like I was going to get abused again. Atleast now I knew what sex was like, atleast it would be consensual. 

We'd fool around over the next couple of years, off and on but it never amounted to either of us falling in love with each other. I used to find him very attractive, but I could somehow never love him. Even though I was completely okay with his promiscuity, I couldn't get myself to settle down with him knowing his dick would still be in someone else's pussy every other day even with me in the picture. 

 

When you're a young girl and starting to become aware of your sexuality, you are basically a kid in a candy shop. The possibilites are endless. It was the perfect definition of 'friends with benefiits' for us. But the older you grow, you realise that being someone's booty call or having a fuck buddy is rather degrading. It's impossible to separate infatuation from sex. At the end of the day, you need some romance in your life-it can't be about hardcore, no mercy fucking all the time. 

Anyway, V and I gradually lost touch and never really hung out as friends once the sex stopped. It was strange how at one point I wanted him to want me, but he didn't. 

He really wanted me much later after I disappeared from his life but by then I'd settled down like a domesticated cow and I wasn't going to give it up for him. I was happy being in a committed relationship with someone I was starting to set life goals with. At 18, when you're in love, it is the best feeling ever. You make all these completely ridiculous and impractical plans about the future with your partner even though the chances of them never working out are sky high. 

V was always my sin. I'd always go back to him every time I wanted a quick and easy fuck, with no strings attached. He'd effortlessly fit into the parameters I had set for fuck buddies. We kept our lips sealed once the deed was done, it was a perfect arrangement. 

I could go back to my old ways and sleep with him just to get all this energy off me, but at 23, I realise that the solution to a broken heart is not sex with someone you don't really care about. We've played this game over and over again as teenagers but it seems so silly the older you grow. 

The problem lies with me. I've spent my entire adolescence not believing in romance, but things have changed post the debacle that was A. I want to believe in romance and I want to feel loved. I want someone in my life who will want me and only me, as I will want only him/her.

I'm losing my faith with men in general. I get every man usually wants to have sex wth me, that is why they flirt with me in the first place, but then what? Move on to someone else? What about me in that case? This arrangement has no returns for me, what do I get out of it, maybe mediocre sex at best.

When A and I started fucking, it was mad. We were all over each other, but during the last time with him at someone else's house, I realised that I couldn't do this to myself. I wouldn't do this to myself. 

It's better to not have sex and be celibate than fuck someone who makes you feel like a whore. 

V and I passed our expiry date years ago, I feel giddy when I think of all the fun things we've done. But then I also remember breaking someone's heart for him and ultimately paying the price for it for years after that.

When you're feeling down and out, defeated with life, it's nice to receive a message from someone saying that they miss you. But just because they miss you doesn't mean that you are obligated to respond. Sometimes you just have to let go and move  on I guess.

At 1:23 am he said, "I miss the girl I knew" "Why don't we ever hang out anymore"

...baby, you're 5 years too late! 

For What?

That harmless interest in a beautiful girl,

claiming poems and paintings that are not yours as your own,

that phone-call to someone else at 3am when you could just be,

the nips and the tucks.

The lies and the deceit.

For what?

I am arrogant, I am obstinate, I am heartless.

But I'm not a liar, my emotions are not counterfeit like yours.

I mean it when I say that I love you.

You don't.

You break my heart.

For what?

He protects me all the time,

He protects me from myself.

His heart breaks to see me so broken.

And no matter how hard I try,

I cannot seem to love him like I loved you.

I feel rage, so much rage for not being able to love him back.

Everything would be so simple if I loved him and not you.

He coaxes me out of my depression.

You abandon me like everybody else.

A trophy girlfriend on your mantlepiece

Nothing more, never could have been.

If it were up to you, you'd lock me in a cage

As you went hunting for new meat everyday.

And I'd probably wait for you to love me one day.

But my wait would only be in vain.

I am now the victim of the cruel game you played.

I'm damaged beyond repair.

You shamed me, you degraded me.

You broke me down.

But for what?

Can you ever erase me from your head?

Even if you do, can you ever live in peace knowing you did what you did?

Or are you going to let some girl suck your dick and your sorrows away?

Is that how you play your game?

Running away when you're defeated.

Running far, far away.

You could have been happy.

You could have with me.

I would have tried my best to satisfy you

Maybe I'd even be successful in taming your roving eye someday.

But you threw it all away.

For what? 

Consensual

what causes one to be cruel, so cruel?
what makes one act like a savage, a beast?
centuries of evolution and yet you cannot think beyond yourself.
living in perpetual gloom.
and memories of days bygone.

I open my eyes and I'm a nymph at 12. I figure I'm Lolita, I can handle it all. But I'm not Lolita. I don't know what a man's genitals look like.
"Touch it", he places my hand over his dick.
It looks like a worm, a snake, a deformity.
I can see it grow slowly and steadily.
I am scared. It intimidates me.
He places his dick in my mouth. It tastes sour, like death. My death.

I'm in my training bra, didn't anticipate we'd come this far. All I wanted was a kiss, nothing more. I didn't know there was a world beyond a kiss. He squeezes my nipples, for I do not have a breast he can hold on to. It feels strange to let someone see me naked for the first time.
I'm embarrassed of the hair around my vagina.
I'm embarrassed and petrified as he slides his fingers around and then into it.
It hurts.
It hurts a lot more than I can imagine.
Just one finger.


Is this what adults do for recreation?
Is this what grownups always fantasize about?

I see him looking at me as he makes me suck his dick.
I understand that he feels a great deal of pleasure.
I am sexslave. I'm his sexslave for the evening.

"Are you scared?" "No"
I lie. I'm not a convincing liar but he needs to hear what he wants to hear.

It is the month of December but somehow I do not feel cold. Only scared. Broken.

How did I get to this part of my nightmare?
He was stronger than I imagined.
I had nothing on but a pair of earrings.
He was dressed, except for the dick sticking out of his pants.
(Or did he take his shirt off? I can't quite remember)

Degradation.
Humiliation.
But a severe breach of trust, more than anything else.

I lay there like a nymphsexdoll. He couldn't get his dick to go into my vagina on the first try. He told me that it would hurt and reassured me that "I" would feel good. I did not believe him, not a word he said. But I was too lost to respond, let alone fight back.

I shut my eyes and felt pain. Nothing but pain.
It was nothing like I had imagined it to be.
He grunted and pushed hard and I prayed for the ordeal to end.
I wouldn't let him see me cry.
I wouldn't give him the pleasure.

It's been over a decade since the incident. I've been called a "sex goddess" by a few men I have slept with. I have seen the pleasure in their eyes as they orgasm. Sex with me is a high, I've been told. But nobody knows that they're fucking a dead person.
I die the moment they enter me. Nobody has been able to make me feel alive.

What's the best sex I've had so far in life?
I haven't had any good sex.
Nobody has loved me the way I deserve to be loved.
I have merely given my body to those seeking pleasure.

I'm quite mad.
But that's okay, I like to believe that I'm saving myself for the right person when they come along.

Prjkt X

My folks leave for a vacation tomorrow and I'm looking forward to having the house to myself, not because I can party and let people trash my place but because I can finally write write write and write some more.
I'm falling into the stereotype of those who drink to make themselves not think about all the heartache. Is it healthy? Ofcourse not! But what choice do I have?
Also, alcohol is better than relapsing and starting to do dendrite like a juvenile delinquent. Sometimes you know that some things are really bad for you and yet you just can't stop doing it. I want to be 13 again, still fresh from the wounds of the rape. I don't know why but I do. Maybe because I used to think that from that point on I thought that my life wouldn't be sad anymore, the worst was over. But growing up makes you realise that life is just sad, it is always sad. I may not have been raped again since but people have kept breaking me down, the cycle never ends. I may have stopped doing dendrite but the trips are always the same. Everything is a loop.

My resolution for this year is to definitely stay away from drugs and not abuse them. After my last acid trip last year, I realised that drugs only work for me when I'm alone or with someone I can shed all my inhibitions with and since there is no latter in my life at the moment, I'll have to take extremely good care of myself, nobody's going to do it for me.

Real life is not a fairytale. I am not a princess and there is no prince who will come and rescue me. Miracles are not real, only tragedies are. But it's okay, I'm starting to master the art of getting by.


I need to do so many things.
But there's so little time.
Let me waste one precious second
Trying to make this fucking rhyme.

Attention Seeking Bitch

Sometimes you need to feel good about yourself, you just do. Especially if you're a girl who's been battling depression and eternal melancholy. I always thought of myself as antisocial and largely unwanted, but being single for the first time in a long time has made me realise a lot of good and bad things about myself.
I used to always think of myself as vermin in social situations-ugly, unwanted and unnecessary. I guess it's hard to come to terms with someone ignoring you and looking for greener pastures when they tell you that they "love" you, but with time I'm realising that this is not true. Atleast not for me. There are people who would be perfectly happy to dedicate their entire evening for my company, even if there's no guaranteed sex afterwards.
It makes me feel good about myself somehow.
 I don't need to be all over a man just to get his attention and neither do I need to make someone feel inferior about himself. I can be me and people will like me for just that.
It feels strangely liberating to be able to be who you are and still be wanted by men who will find you beautiful and intelligent and sexy and all those things. It feels good to know that the problem does not lie with you, like you thought it did. You're not an inconsequential mass of nothingness. You're beautiful and you're special-any man who fails to see that and lets you go is daft and you should never waste your time running after them.

Thank you to the beautiful, extremely gorgeous guys I met tonight. Even though I"ll probably not see you all for a long time and even though I've never touched/been touched by any of you...thank you for making my day, someone as incredibly ordinary as me. Thank you for making me realise that I am hot stuff indeed and any asshole who fails to understand and value that is losing out on the best they could have ever dreamt of.

Happy Birthday

Only memories of a Christmas eve remain, the best in my life I think.
We could have been childhood sweethearts, the ones who grew up together. Did everything together.
We could have been the old couple we saw once, fighting to stay sane, but so deeply in love.
We could have been married, we could have started a family.
With pets. So many pets.
You could have been a regular nine-to-five Joe.
I would have been your average Bengali Jane.
But in love, in so much love.


I wish I could spend my entire life rewinding and replaying all our memories in my head.
Winter evenings.
Summer afternoons.
Christmas eve.
Your sweet sixteenth birthday.
Your first kiss.
Our first kiss.
We could have reminisced our wild, wild days as we grew older.

Drunk. Hormonal. Doing bad drugs.
But so attracted to each other.
I couldn't take my eyes off you and you couldn't keep your hands off me.
People said that we'd make a good looking couple.
I wish I could marry you.
I wish I could have your babies.
But most of all, I wish I could stop you before you plunged into darkness.

Familiarity

Familiarity.
The taste of your mouth.
Your tongue.
And mine.

Stroking the beard on your chin.
My fingers trace its silhouettes.
Strange familiarity.

Wet and warm.
Reminded of how I feel inside.
Your hands.
Your lips.
Your ears.
Your teeth.
Your nose.
Your fingernails.
Your hair.
Your Adam's apple.
Your genitalia.
You.

Explosions in the form of orgasms.
I explode.
No one seems to do it like you do.
Surreal.

But I no longer crave for your love.
I enjoy the pain in the form of fornication.

Don't love me, have sex with me.