what a tragedy, love!

i.

there's something about the 3 am rain. something soothing about the violent cascade of it onto the empty roads. the tender feel of it on my bare knees. the flickering gleam of the streetlights only allow me to see so much. and yet i can't get out of this trance. my eyes are fixated and i can't seem to move. the clouds are roaring, the universe is screeching. ever so often lightning cracks the sky open, followed by the cries of thunder. and yet i still can't ignore the static all around me, swallowing me whole.

ii.

i can still taste the bitterness of caffeine on my lips. my hair still smells of smoke. but will the nicotine be enough on a night like this? my chest is cracking open, my body reverberating. i need something much stronger than the poison running through my veins. but you're not here.

iii.

you can fall in love with many things when it comes to her. the way her name is whispered in stories centuries old. the way her eyes are filled with stars and floating constellations. the way her curls fall on her chest and wrap around her arms, an eloquent bedlam. you can fall in love with the spring in her step, plain as day even on the brink of adulthood. you can fall in love with her bright eyes, a love amplified only when those eyes, so full of life, are replaced by traces of mascara. her soul is a riptide. she is made up of thunderstorms and scars, a thing of beauty. she draws on a supple canvas with colors that are yet to be discovered. her throat burns and her eyes sting, but she is still upright. she is standing in an idle town with a sky as dark as her hair, swimming in unfortunate circumstances. and she clings onto a faint glimmer of hope until her fingers start to bleed. she never learned how to let go. despite it all, she continues to blossom. despite everything, she still vows to love clouds and sunsets and starry nights, and she still burns bright.

iv.

\\ 2:39 am \\

a radiantly barren soul, a multitude of self pity.

vanilla coffee in a golden chalice, neon lights with an agenda. the inside of her mind was an eerie beige, an eternal purgatory. 

watch her closely as she attempts to drown her very own shitpile of asinine escapades and cacophony with thin white lines and invigorating fumes. trace the bruises down her bare back, her hands and her knees, as unbecoming as a pitcher of chrism in the Shwedagon Pagoda. 

touching her will feel like an act of recklessness, sinful even - do not let that addle you. bury yourself in the shredded remnants of her sapience. and afterwards, as sunlight creeps in between the curtains, hold her by the bits and pieces and say a little prayer. 

a silent requiescat for what once was. 

v.

new year, new beginnings. 

gone are the days of late night sorrows and broken mirrors on the bathroom floor. the handbook for self love told me to surround myself with greener grass and bluer skies. to leave the ungrateful and the unworthy behind. to breathe. 

gone are the days of submitting to the idea of me, concocted by those who never learned to withstand storms. have i become too bold for you? there’s nothing for you to see here. nothing for you to exploit. 

gone are the days of apologizing for anything and everything. for choosing myself over you and your fragile mind. your labels don’t define me, but they speak volumes about you. 

yes i am that girl. the one you’re terrified of. a little too empowered for your taste, as it seems. i am that girl, healing and growing and loving and leaving. now watch me flourish. 

vi.

she’s got the galaxy in her eyes and a million stars in her veins. an open book of unruly hair and lipstick stains. loving her was not for the faint hearted. each breath was a whispered rebellion, the thirst for resurgence unquenched. the satin draped over her legs is enticing, as is a lush forest, flourishing with life. tread carefully, as the storm within her will leave you down on your knees, quivering. take a deep breath and marvel at her from a distance as she unravels the universe around her. with a heart of gold, she will rise from the ashes you left behind. without you, she will ignite. 

they don’t know what to do with you, darling. 

vii.