Photography

excerpts of a book i’ll never write-

i remember the sunrays resting on your cheeks that day and me, tracing the freckles across your face with my eyes. you looked like an angel with that little heart shaped freckle at the corner of your right eye. my fingertips run across your shoulder, then moves to your chest. palm resting right where your heart sings loudly. last night you told me about your dreams and how there were so many…

the sound of my grandma’s laughterlaced with the warmth of the winter sun.she braids my hair humming her lullabyas I watch the burnt out ends of the incense stick falland the smell of sandalwood lingers around the roomwhile I silently wish,“oh how I wish to hold on to every second of this moment,to inject it in my veinsand relive it, over and overagain and again.” the shy smile of that pretty…

fragments of my poetry hang upon my walls. unfinished. unfinished, because that is how I am made up of to leave things as. unfinished, because i would rather taste a thousand deaths if it came down to accepting our fate. unfinished, because my heart is too fragile to talk about it tonight. unfinished, because it never really mattered to you anyway.

scented candles are for nights when you are sure that even the tiniest possible flicker of hope is holding onto your hand when you sob to sleep. but tonight i get high on your mixtapes. brown eyes. honey eyes. coffee eyes. eyes that seeked for nothing, but love. eyes that haunted the one they once loved.

numbness embraces me tonight as if it has always meant to hold me. tonight all i am left with is the realisation of you walking out of me, two winters back and never even looking back for once. gone. gone, like the freezing december winds that would try to tear my skin yet made me feel better, for at least i am alive. gone, like that quick autumn sunset for which i would wait for hours, but still be hopeful for another day ending on a good note. but this time it was gone. just plain gone. nothing hopeful, nothing to feel better. just this numbing silence and constant helplessness.

Every journey brings something new