Roseblueclouds - Nidhi

you don’t know how much you meant to me.

how the words that left your lips

pierced my heart,

lurking in my head for hours.

how the sweet texts you sent

are locked up in my gallery

after all these months.

i look at them sometimes,

the screenshots taking me back

to a time that may have existed,

to a version of us

that looks perfect

in the haze of nostalgia.

is that a smile or a grimace?

a bittersweet taste on my tongue.

you don’t know how much you meant to me.

that drunken voice note still haunts me.

“i love you”s whispered in the dead of the night.

hours before dawn broke;

days before your heart did too.

i'm not sorry though.

i was sick of us,

sick of running in circles,

of the loop we were stuck in,

of our never-ending endings,

one step forward, two steps back.

you were a habit I couldn’t break,

but it was time to stop.

like a wilted flower clinging to a branch,

it was time to let go.

old habits die hard,

but as the nostalgia fades,

reality slams into me in waves.

and I’m glad I never told you

just how much you meant to me.

I’m drunk and my head is spinning and there’s this pressure in my chest; I feel like my old tendencies are back to haunt me but if that was the case then why aren’t you here?

- S.R.

I should have left

when the kisses moved from my lips to my cheeks.

I should have left

when the warm hugs

turned into quick brushes.

I should have left

when a cold shoulder replaced

the one I leaned on.

When a few words

sparked arguments

and hour long silences,

I should have turned my back on you.

But I didn't

And that's my mistake to bear.

You were bitter

so, so bitter,

but your sweet aftertaste

had me coming back for seconds

and more.

I should have left when

my name on your lips stopped sounding like music

and your eyes

no longer held all the stars

in the night sky.

I should have left you

the moment we fell out of love.

Sciamachy

I’ve slackened the reins,

The ones keeping her compliant.

When I stand facing her now,

It’s all the same.

My gaze washes over her features,

The details etched on my mind.

The unevenness of her eyes

The slope of her nose,

The curve of her lips.

But something is different;

Unsettling.

The sparkle in her eyes has disappeared,

In its place a pitch-black void.

Terrifying me,

Tempting me,

Luring me in,

In to its vast nothingness.

A devious promise of freedom.

We’re screaming now,

Both grappling for control.

Growing louder and louder

But in reality,

we're shrouded by a deafening silence.

I feel the reins slipping,

and I don’t recognize her anymore.

So I concede,

turning away,

and leaving the mirror behind me.

“I would like to be able to gently drift in and out of existence when I wanted to.”

— Henry Rollins, Solipsist

“What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don’t know and I’m afraid. I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.” - Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath