WHEN SUMMER AND AUTUMN LOVED EACH OTHER

autumn seduces summer

with her kind eyes and vicious mouth.

she starts off with the clichéd flirt

tussling her hair, soft giggles escaping her mouth

like a little girl who had just found her Christmas present.

And summer

oh! how he burns with excitement.

and the cycle begins.

summer traces her curves

as moans escape,

skin gripped

lip biting

slowly

and then the gazing.

getting lost

in pillow talk.

the calm before the storm.

before the earth shatters.

in the end

autumn always wins

and summer surrenders.

until the next equinox

when their souls will again make love…

an ode to your mistake

Before You

i thought i knew about all the monsters under my bed 

playing deceit on my mind

of shadows lurking, witches bewitching.

The sacred unknown territory forbidden for good girls like me

-

With you

Pretty smile, piercing gaze,

butterflies and soft touches

retracing every crack in my skin

trying to relive my past.

Because even the devil feels like love

especially when he wants to fix you.

-

After you

He looked like heaven

felt like hell.

No amount of pills 

will ever make you

feel as alive the way he did.

And that's when you know you are fucked

because  the places he fixed

have split open again

Ghosts of the Past.

This how the people in your life become smoke residing in your rib cage.
You let them in with smiles and sweet words whispered on your skin.
Arms that give you shelter, grasping every inch of you,
sometimes just too tightly until you can't breathe.
Until soft pellets falling on their skin,
like rain in the summer.
Unwanted.
Loyal to a fault.
The sweet whispers turn into missed phone calls,
the smiles into snarls.
Your presence awkward.
Until you are talking yourself out of a panic attack,
realizing you are alone.
Until the scars on your body from silent shrugs and rolled eyes
suffocate you like iron hands around your throat.
A sense of drowning in a sea of betrayal,
the people who have left you
have now become ash
and I swear I can feel them burning at the back of my mouth.

The Dissection of A Break Up

Smoke-
that is all you can see from the window pane
of this two store apartment you only bought
to feel her love.

Whiskey stains-
that is all you can feel underneath you
as you try to savor the last moments
she has left you with.

Broken glass-
you know it is there because it shines
at the crinkle edge of your eyes,
leaving a trail of a mad painter's lies.

Love-
the reason you got in the mess,
but she is gone and
you don't know how to breathe again.

The Next door neighbour-
who brings you cookies
and the vicous cycle starts again.

The Muse

She looked at the empty page
He looked at  his muse.

She brain stormed scattered ideas

He collected them 

stealing her words away.

She makes love to the whiskey in her hand

while he makes love through the words of another.

She breaks, crumbles , disfigures 

say what you must.

He rises and molds

into the vowels of her mouth.

She stands at the ledge,

giving away the few words she had.

He greedily catches them all from hitting the floor

devouring her soul , her essence

for his art.

But you can still feel her 

in the lines of his poems(her words.)

Therapeutic Breakup

"Come back""Stay""Don't leave"

Lying awake in the dead of the night

covered in swear 

with an aftertaste of regret 

watching her leave

after she has ripped your heart away 

you think "hell with self respect"

and beg.

But she has grabbed the keys and

can barely look you in the eye.

That is how you know.

And in that moment everything hurts

She has shut the door

and you cry and wail 

and hold yourself.

When the morning slowly touches your skin

where her hands previoulsy lingered .

Healing begins.

P.S-

Sometimes what may seem the end of the world is just a blessing in disguise to show you your own worth and dignity.

Romance Was Born

When passion walked into the bar with
 his kind auburn eyes that fell upon lust,
he knew.
Of the long nights and strange beds
of even more peculiar men
that wore her weary of dreams
that came during midnight.
Maybe that is why she drugged herself
to be in a constant state of ecstasy.
Perhaps that is why she found refugee in her
mother's journal tucked away
under her bed.
Lust had always been deprived of love
or worse was mistaken for love.
But still she smiled
hoping that her mouth would hide
the truth in her eyes.
She looked up
and her hopeless eyes met with kindness.
A warmth entranced her body
and for the first time
her eyes fluttered with glee.
When passion and lust met ,
romance was born.