The Last Poem I Wrote About You

painting by Naomi Okubo:

The greatness lies in the words.
The scribble of an ink on paper
could easily be what your mind is screaming in your closeted head
or the thumping in your chest.
Why does the brain let us think that it is the heart that is the greater, while all it does is pump blood in our veins, on its own instruction?
Why do I think you are the greatest, when you just told me things I should have known last year, or the year before it?
I should have told myself that I am a caring person
and I am a sweet girl and I dont deserve anyone making any less of it.
I don’t deserve myself making any less of it.
You are different, for not who you are because you are just another lesson on a boring school day.
No, you are different because I thought you could’ve been.
But damnit, you just had to twist your words with your action.

I had a good time while it lasted.
I had a great time while you were there.
And then it was time for us to leave.
You could’ve enjoyed the good bye, been less hasty,
I wouldn’t have minded.
I could’ve complained less.
We are who we are.
You are who you are.
But it was my pleasure that you stopped by.

Painting Courtesy: Naomi Okubo


Making Up Words

"No one is you and that is your power." —Dave Grohl   artwork by Daniel Segrove:

As I sit there,
looking out of the moving window
I feel all kinds of feelings stir in me.
No, just the melancholic ones.
They overflow through my
Just a little.

Just a little
more time I wish
I’d had
She bolted away before
I knew,
she was gone forever.
“It was nice knowing you,”
she said, leaving a
kiss on my cheek
I touched the spot,
I should have sayed.

Should I have stayed?
Does he care that I left?
I didn’t want to.
All my instincts only ever
wanted to stretch this
affair as long as
it could endure.
But I have seen too
many stories end on a
sour note when
enduring is all that’s left
I wouldn’t let it happen to mine.

I shouldn’t have let it happen.
I shouldn’t have let her go by.
Does she think I don’t care?
She said, “Now I need to run away.”
Did she not care?

If only he knew
running away might kill me
show up as stains on my face
and bruises on my lungs
But some doors need
to be closed behind us.
Maybe we will meet again…
Fate is funny that way…
I hope he remembers me then…

Someday we may meet again.
Let fate work it that way.
I pray she remembers me then.
I hope she remembers me then.

Artwork Courtesy: Daniel Segrove

10 Things About An Escapist

1. I like escaping reality.
2. I like reading books because in books you travel far and wide to places real and unreal and meet people fantastical and maniacal and you reach the end and it is just a kooky little world someone cooked up in their mind and used their hands to write it down using 26 letters and that’s all that is there to it. And that’s all it took to make me feel like I just lived a life far and wide.
3. I like movies because one day someone decided that the human kind needs to learn the power of imagination and that it is within us to give a form to that imagination and include all kinds of people into our little world to share stories about girls and boys and men with guns and aliens and that not only can you imagine but you can probably shape it too.
4. I like painting because I like colors and I like to feel my hand make something that my brain pictures and my eyes see and then give my opinion about the whole affair.
5. I like boys. Because sometime their words can bring about a physical change in me and make me smile and make me blush and make my stomach flutter.
6. I hate boys. Because sometimes they will say something and make me feel small and make me cry and break things and make me confused about why I am giving someone else have this power over me and why do I lie awake at 4 am picturing scenes after scenes of what was and what is and what could have been.
7. I escape reality every time I fail.
8. I like reading books because in books I can forget that I woke up that night thinking I wanted to kill myself and I didn’t want to kill myself and instead lose myself in a world where I can picture a different life far from here.
9. I like watching movies because in movies I see someone else’s what was, what is and what could have been and finally, what became.
10. I like painting because I can always paint myself – with more colors and start over.


Did you ever realize how much your body loves you? I mean its always trying to keep you alive. That’s all your body has to live for. Your body is making sure you breathe while you sleep, stopping cuts from bleeding, fixing broken bones, finding ways to beat the illnesses that might get you. Your body literally loves you so much. It’s time you start loving your body back. —Unknown Sculpture by Justin Novak: Did you ever realize how much your body loves you? I mean its always trying to keep you alive. That’s all your body has to live for. Your body is making sure you breathe while you sleep, stopping cuts from bleeding, fixing broken bones, finding ways to beat the illnesses that might get you. Your body literally loves you so much. It’s time you start loving your body back. —Unknown Sculpture by Justin Novak

It always starts innocently enough…

Like when you are picking at a wound, its just for relief you say to yourself
but soon enough you have scratched open your wound, raw skin and blood all over.
You end up enduring a worse injury. And to be honest, aren’t you to blame for it?
So you start picturing a future together
Irrespective of whether you even have a present (you don’t)
Soon enough in between clinking of glasses and laughter and kisses
you realize, how will it ever be?
And you realize you are further down the pit than you ever thought
Raw skin exposed and blood all over.
Just give it time dear,
wounds close and the blood clots and they heal.
Don’t go picking at it.
It will heal.

Unlike scars.
Don’t scar yourself.

Sculpture by Justin Novak

What If…

I am supposed to think about the greater good. I am supposed to focus on my calling, things I am passionate about. I am to look for adventures, not sit here thinking of you. Over-analyzing all the words you said to me. One moment I am convinced that you meant every word you said. Because you looked in my eyes and you made me smile. Isn’t that how it is supposed to happen? I have been too out of touch. I have kept myself too out of touch because I am a fool and I am being foolish again. Of course you didn’t mean anything. You were in high spirits and I was in high spirits. And we both said and heard what we wanted to. High spirits make a bigger fool of us than we are. But here I am nevertheless, playing it, rewinding it and playing it again. Just one more time. And its 3 o’clock and I dug out a hole in my heart that I had barely been able to cover up from the last time. So, I will make this easier for myself.

Let’s play a game of what if? What if you did mean it? What if you do want me and I won’t turn out to be like all the other ladies before me? We will seek out the high spirits again and you will make me smile and laugh and make me feel good and soon enough I’ll start craving you. People like me get addicted to people like you very easily. And I will start changing myself according to you. I won’t say the words that upset you, that could anger you. I just want us to be right there, laughing. I just want that moment. But moments are fleeting. I always forget that. We will continue with our conversations. We will shut out the world and you will open up in secret. I will then tell you one of my secrets. The ones even my friends don’t know. And we will kiss under the drunken stars. Or maybe under the fort of your blanket. Or anywhere really, I don’t mind you kissing me anytime… anywhere.

But soon enough, the high will fade and you will become you and I will become me.
It won’t last because I will sabotage it. Or maybe you will. But more likely we both will strangle it. You will start fidgeting, I won’t be enough for you. I won’t find you compelling or challenging enough, and you will be just another pretty face unable to understand my fickle, rude, arrogant heart. And all the kissing won’t help it. And we’ll let each other get lost in the crowd again. Becoming perfect strangers.

There you go, sweet heart,
if it won’t last do we have to indulge in it?

Illustration courtesy: Harriet Lee-Merrion


Lights. Camera. Action-
You come in.
You sweep me off my feet.
I hit the ground hard,
Breaking a bone or two.
You creep in under my skin.


Let’s do another take.
You come in.
You make me laugh.
You are still lodged in between my broken bones,
And it hurts,
The space that you fill.
You make me laugh.
And then I cry.


That wasn’t in the scene, darling
Keep the laughter on,
Or at least give away smiles.
Can we do another take of this –
Let’s make this perfect, shall we?
From the top, people:
You come in.
You sweep me off my feet.
You make me laugh.
You make me breathless.
But you are in a hurry
And it all happens a second too fast.
A blurry mess.
You are gone.

I think we had a miscast.

Painting by Nigel Van Wieck

Guest Post : Love In Denial

large.gif (380×277)Strange butterflies, trying to conceal your blush, hell lot of awkwardness, specifically at all the wrong situations. Congratulations, you are welcome to the world of love but stay in denial. Before the non-experienced starts judging by just seeing the vague picture of what it’s all about, let me warn them: You are in for more than what you had planned for. Liking his tact, company, conversations, jokes, smile, eyes… suddenly you find yourself in an off-limit zone. You just say, “Okay! This was not supposed to happen. So it might not just happen. Stop hallucinating and focus somewhere else.” His laugh, out of nowhere, keeps coming to your mind, like a hundred times a day or his face in front of your eyes. Just an infatuation. Nothing risky about it. It will go away even before you would notice. Good, if it luckily goes away; otherwise all the very best for the rest of your life. Atleast for whatever time you are required to live in that situation. With every dawn, you start praying for it to go away. With every dusk, you start believing that it won’t, aggravating your urge to leave it all. Along come the means to do that- distractions; mostly bad ones. But what can be the reasons for the non acceptance of your feelings, even to oneself. After all we are the best keeper of our secrets, having all of them carefully locked at the back of our head. But what’s with another secret? The reason is not hidden at the back of the head, its right in front. Your conscious may be filled with guilt or you fear that your life will be filled with complications. Of all the things, what sucks most is when he is a dear friend. More than just feelings are at stake. All’s well until your behaviour remains unaltered. Obviously you have your best interests at heart for everybody and him, but the outer attitude just not matches with it. You were so good with him, rather normal. But who knew normality is one hell of a job now. You keep apologising for your demeanour and everytime fortunately it gets accepted. You feel bad, not that it happened, because you are not sure if you’ll ever be able to stop it completely. Eventually the question gets raised, “Why is he the chosen one for dumping all your bad mood swings?” You have no answer. Even though you are not doing anything wrong to him, instead doing to yourself all that’s wrong, but you just politely take everything on you. Own up your mistakes one more time, not owning your feelings one more time. Amidst all of it, that smile in that face keeps paying visit to you, as often as possible.

This post is written by Kammia Karan. Anonymous and fucked up in her own special way.