The Promises

How many times have I looked up?
How many times have I promised you?
all the things I would do,
and all the things I never would.

And how many times did I break my promise?
And how many times did I speak to nothing?
but distance, and hope, and illusion.

A year it turns,
like my past in it's grave.
and still I wonder;
Where does this restless soul belong?
with the abandoned wind?
or the sporadic rain?
or perhaps in some new terrain?

Does it belong in someone else's arms?
or will it forever roam alone?

Should I promise you again?
and dream out loud ?
or should I forget your fraying clouds?

Is the answer in a book I've read?
or a song I've heard?
A path I've tread?
or a sea I have yet to meet?

Is the answer with a new friend?
My favourite colour?
the latest trend?

Will I make a new promise?
Just to break it again?
Will I become stagnant?
Will I find my catalyst?

Do you care for my promises?
Have you held my hand?
Will I find salvation?
Question marks.
My quest leaves marks.

I'm running out of noise.
I'm losing the spark.
That started the fire,
That lit my dark.

So is this how it is?
Is this how it ends?
or where it begins?

A new promise made.
A new hope to hold.
A new year to live.
A new promise to give.

How many times have I looked up?
Lowered my head?
Promises.
On messy beds.

So I'll promise you this.
the end of all 
my promises.
In case I haven't got it yet, 
the answer is in the disconnect.

200 Days

I once stood on a withered wharf,
and told the singing tides a tale.
I promised them that I'd always try,
and I'd never stop, though at times I'd fail.

I whispered to the crimson moon,
that my name will be in starlight soon.

I also told embracing clouds,
that I would not fit in with crowds.
And the wind agreed,
and brushed my hair.
and the sand it moved,
between my feet.

When sun it shone,
and kissed my skin,
I pointed to my lonely throne,
sturdy in my kingdom of sin.

I yelled towards an empty sky,
for my soul to hold another's heart.
I asked as well,
If loving your self,
was easier when in love you fell.

But as I lay,
with my last thought-
I slept with love, and all it brought;
When I fell in love with tedious days,
When I fell in love with an empty bed,
Full head.
When I fell in love singing blues,
when I fell in love in my dancing shoes.
Gardenia nights,
Turkish delights.

When I fell in love with a stormy vacation.
When I fell in love with random elation.

How I fell in love with nights on the wharf,
with promises made,
and all that fulfilled them.

Then I fell in love with death itself,
with everything that ended days.
I fell in love with living life -
my thoughts becoming crashing waves. 

The Mirage

Hope was born in the water. 

And oh!

how it glistened. 

And they sang her song along the way, 

but not an ear listened. 

And she surfaced for a brief gasp. 

Oh the violins how they played! 

How her faith it gently swayed. 

She surfaced with so much joy.

Anchored with a buoy.

So she played and she played.

Brave little girl. 

Curious in this scary little world. 

She met verity on the shore.

And they skipped through dusty dunes. 

Love letter to her Baghdad. 

Drowned in salty seas. 

Memories like dancing streams. 

Oh the green green grass. 

The sun kissed hair.

She moved on to that cleaner air. 

She even played, in sky scraping land. 

She even walked those Gothic streets. 

She even prayed in passive churches. 

Turquoise mosques,

Not ready for purchase. 

And somewhere along the way,

She forgot to float.

She forgot to swim. 

She forgot to let all that beauty in. 

The sand felt different. 

The water less clear. 

Though she crossed the desert. 

She now wondered with fear. 

She was burned with a question.

Will he ever see?

Peripheral vision. 

Grain of sand me? 

Was it a dream? 

Or her intuition? 

She collected bags of cynicism,

Criticism. 

Changed her mission.  

Oh the water! how it glowed!

Yes,

She was born by the streams, 

but it rarely showed. 

Let me see it again.

She turned to heaven.
Baptised in the illusion. 

Let me believe again.

She would welcome the delusion. 

At least it was hopeful.

At least it was naive. 

At least she could say,

I still believe. 

In Transit

Between 28 and You, 
I became 29. 
I lost my mind. 

Between 28 and you, I became numb. 
You turned to scum. 

You shattered my glass house, 
Shallow throws. 
But then again, 
I opened the doors.
The love was cheap. 
But I went Deep. 
On that first day,
when I heard you say
"no one will love you if you don't love yourself".
I laughed it off. 
Yes I was on a mission.
Full ignition.

I was ready to lose it all. 
I was finally ready for my fall. 
You attract what you are,
and I was bored in transit. 
I lit fire to my patience. 
I Hastily slashed my dignity.
I was going down, and you were going with me.

I can't say I didn't see it coming, 
but it hurts nonetheless.
I just didn't know,
that you were better at making a mess.

I tried everything to drown my thoughts.
I circled the dark waters.
I gazed at the shiny towers. 
I passed by silent saris.
Sweaty labourers. 
Scantily clad lovers. 
Innocent eyes. 
Indifferent joggers. 

I'm just a grain of sand.
Blowing in the wind. 

Between 28 and 29.
I was just fine.

So I retold my story. 
I just tripped up.
I lost my grip.
Afterall,
How do you rise without a fall? 

And even in transit, 
you can't fall asleep. 
And this transit is long.
And it's making me weep. 
And it's making me strong.
And when I catch the connection, 
you better be ready. 

And there's no better place. 
There's no other time. 
Re-write the story.
29. 
You're just fine.
And you'll be more than that. 
Just take your time. 
Take in his first line.
Forget everything else.
"No one will love you, if you don't love yourself".

Don't fall asleep. 
Remember your connection.
Don't be complacent.
Pay attention. 

Between 28 and 29. 
I was more than just fine.
I was Mine.

I became water.
I became light.
I took flight. 

Of Monsoons and War

I camouflage in laughter.
And I stab them with self-deprecation.
I gun them down with wit.
Yeah.
I'm a hit.

'you're so funny'
They proclaim -
often not knowing my name.
And I grin from ear to ear
As I wipe away their fear.

I cushion them with comfort,
and I battle on through.
Sand bags up and ready,
I continue to shoot.

But if you get close,
you can sense what's off.
And they start to ask 'haven't you had enough?"
"get out of your head! It's not that tough!"
But I wish I could show them,
the iota of love
That stays behind, when they all disappear.
That stays behind. When the silence is filled.
The ringing in my ear, after the grenades dismantle.

Sometimes it's all
Too much to handle. 

You see, it's a fog,
from a monsoon of thoughts.
But I wish I could show them,
how hard it becomes,
To flat with your nemisis.
To live with your hate.
Theres always an enemy,
waiting at the gate.

And then there's the guilt
the guillotine of guilt.
I survive the battle,
but I'm numb to the joy.
and I wish I could give someone else this toy.
Maybe they'd love it more,
maybe they'd use it better.

I soldier on,
Hyperactive funny one.
Bubbly girl, Lively lady. 
Filling the silence,
as much as I can.
Because for a moment,
The sun seeps through.
I see them glow.
I seem them smile.
and I forget what I know.
At least for a while.

The fog is clearing.
The monsoon drizzles.
I forget all my worries,
because my stories are my missiles.

And we finally burned....

Highly Flammable

It's funny, looking back on the post below....I thought everything will be different now. I'd be free and I'd be patting myself on the back.

Truth is, 5 months later, and I'm trying to collect the yellow in a bag of M&Ms. Today was the all time low however. No need to go into detail, because my mind will put that on repeat for a while... but I hadn't cried like this in a long time. I think it was because I finally walked away, not just from my first 'relationship', but from my low self worth, my impatience, my self torture. 

I hope it was a finally, and I don't look back on this post some months from now and feel the same. 

In other news, I turn 29 tomorrow. The last of my 20's. Numbers are starting to matter to me less and less, and I suppose that's the great thing with age. I've always imagined myself with someone by my side on my birthday....singing my praises and toasting to our love....

But today I realized that the person has been with me all along. And thats me. 

This year I'll sing my praises....this year I'll stop with the empty promises to myself. Its all within. 

I've had enough of running to different countries, trying to find something that's been inside me all along. I've had enough of blaming my mother for all the bullshit, I've had enough thinking its all about falling in love with some prince charming. Everything is in my hands and tomorrow i'm giving myself the greatest gift of all. 

Love. 

In abundance. 

And when I find that self love again, I'll be home. 

Happy born day to me x