Where?

Oh! he was everywhere

Tattooed in the in inside of my hand

Innately part of my endless rants

Lurking behind my classroom seat

Waiting outside my dance meets

On top of my list of crushes

Making out behind my backyard bushes

Filling the inside of my head

The muse of the poems I made

Like a voice on the phone

The only boy not Friend-zoned

As letters hidden in my desk

Like a tingling between my legs

In photographs and in songs

Right beside me downing vodka shots...

Only he wasn't there for the entire ride

Like he was supposed to be

Even though he said,

"You're my wild light -

What a lovely life it will be!"

Life doesn't always end up like we plan it to be.

.:ayda:.

Clouds

He hovered over me like a cloud

And I was always in its shadows

It was the worst kind of love

If there is a worst kind

I was besotted

How could I have not known

In the end I lay in a heap

Crumpled and left behind

I was happy nonetheless

Finally my days were cloudless

Note: I understood the importance of all the good things in the present because of all the clouds in my past.

.:ayda:.

Because

Keep walking
'Cause the road does not end here
Accept the truth
'Cause nobody ever won with their hearts full of fear
Let go
'Cause bygones are bygones
 Live just the way
You'd like to tell your grandsons.

Have courage
'Cause fortune favors the brave
Believe
'Cause you are not supposed to conquer every path you tread
Keep heart
'Cause tomorrow will be a different story
Be yourself
And prepare to unleash your glory


Often we cease to have faith in our power. Often we lose sight of the light that is within as other things blind us. Believe just because...

.:ayda:.

Co-dependence

She made a
Man
Out of him
By day
And he made a
Woman
Out of her
By night.



We make each other. All of us are a lot of people's efforts and effects besides ours, of course. Almost like the exemplary constructive codependence between the Sun and the Moon.

.:ayda:.

Free

My strings are in his hands
His are in his mother's hands
Hers are in his Dad's hands
Whose are in his Dads hands
And in the end it is a massive
puppet show!

Let others be
Break free.


Freedom is a very very misused term. All of us are controlled by something or the other.
Some are bound by love, some by duties, some by family, some by work or responsibilities, while the rest are haunted by their past or caught up with plans of the future. Let go. Break free.

.:ayda:.

Just Another Star

I was just another
star in his galaxy
of constellations,
with not enough shine
to hold him in place.
But I shone anyway.


You just gotta keep doing your shit. Keep shining, no matter what.

.:ayda:.

Fond

it wasn't perfect
it was a broken mess
a rubble of jealous fires
and stolen glances
angry kisses and
endless chances

I was quite fond of him.

Still am.



It wasn't great, but it was!

.:ayda:.

Oldschool

He pulled chairs
And opened doors
For me
Brought flowers
Wrote letters
On a whim
I wondered
What's wrong?
What's the agenda?

I was but
A fool
He was plain
Oldschool


In today's time, we find chivalry rare. If a guy came up to you and did the right thing for the first time in your life, you would cringe, doubt and wonder what's wrong? Yes it is that rare, to the point of shock...

But they are still out there made up of love, truth, honesty, warmth and chivalry. These are the keepers. My heart lies with an oldschool guy, does yours too?

.:ayda:.

Curtains

I smell her in my cupboard
she's left her personality
in my room
the walls are her color
the curtains are heavy
just like she wanted.
Despite everything
she 's left.
she's left undaunted.

I play it over and over
in my head, oftentimes.
how could she?
and her note says
"so dependent! I cannot be"

Has it ever happened to you too? That you gave so much of yourself to someone and still fell short?
Maybe he/she was always a flight risk and you knew that, only never accepted. You thought you could make him /her stay but now that you draw the curtains, all this irony stare you in the face.

What do you think? Share your stories, I want to know.

.:ayda:.

Faces

if people saw
as much
beauty
in words
as they did
in faces

the world
would be a
beautiful book
of poems and
we its pages



Most of the times I wonder what causes people to see the beauty in other's faces and not their words. That hideous doctored profile pictures should receive more validation than honest comprehensible sentences is quite out of my fathomable imagination. Is the world any less a poem? No, but it sure does fail to elicit the appreciation it deserves.

.:ayda:.

Wayward

I adore the fact
that he likes
his wine with fritters
and not cheese

because I don't like
my whiskey with peanuts
I like it with fish


Let's drink to being wayward. How many of you don't live by the norm?
Note: Musings of an idle mind

.:ayda:.

Mirrors

Funny how people
imprint
on other people

Maybe one soul
does live nine lives

I still see her each day
he has his mother's hazel eyes
and my wife's crooked smile.


We see so much of someone in someone else. Maybe nobody dies after all. Aren't we mirrors reflecting so much more than just what we are?

Fireworks

Sunny dresses
And bare toes
On the grass
Colored lips
Sipping coronas
Heady conversations
With green eyes
Under a clear sky
Time flies...

The day rolls
Into the night
In silence
And in laughter
With the touch of a finger
A tinge of blush
All the things I love
And fireworks.


Ever felt like a firework about to go off when you met someone that filled you with happiness? Yeah! that's exactly what I am talkin' about. Good day people! I hope you all have a day full of everything you love.

.:ayda:.

Two

Lets be silent and solitary
Together
Let's embark on a solo trip
Of self-discovery
With two tickets
Let's go for a run
In two pairs of shoes
Let no one know my flaws
Except you

Does it seem odd to you too?
Do you not feel a strange anomaly?
That my entire being refuses
To live  without your company?

.:ayda:.