Crumble and Cry.

There have been so many times in the past when I have felt like this.
The stirring of a restless impulse that travels like a dull worm all along my spine.
I can feel it in the end of my nerves, this feeling of complete and utter destruction.
A feeling that something NEW is about to happen.
And that does not necessarily need to be a good thing.

Today I was walking down the hall of South Campus with my friend Geetakshi. We had just had our last class with one of my favourite professors in Delhi University- Subarno Sir and the girls had brought up the fact that our student life is coming to an end, well, for the most of us at least.
Nostalgia, that old forgotten feeling spread through my limbs, upward, dulling my brain, numbing my senses, as I floated along with my friend for company. I was wearing an Arsenal jersey, messy hair and no make up and she was pretty in a neon pink t-shirt and white gypsy skirt and a perfect plait. What a contrast!
Anyway, so it hit me that this is it man. End of the line.
I have  NO idea what I want to do in the future.
I guess I'll cling like driftwood on some forgotten river-bank to something.
Or someone.

I recently broke up with my boyfriend Lijo.
Just like that.
He was pretty serious but I woke up one day and realised I don't want to end up living with someone I don't love.
Or someone I have been coerced to love?
Hegemony?
(Fuck I never read the essay for tutorials tomorrow!
Kill me.)

But, this thing  about love is a serious issue ah. I have been trying to brush it aside ever since Ron died. But maybe he knew it me too well. He had called himself a 'PLOT DEVICE' in my life.
Well, he was.
He has been for almost a year now.
But I can't let this come in the way of my surviving anymore.
I don't want to be a widow.
I don't want to be a whore.

I want to go back and live for myself.
For ME.
Do whatever the fuck it takes to make myself happy.
If it's a new guy, so be it.
But I don't think it's as shallow as that anymore.
It's more like a new way of thinking.
A new way of living.
And a way of loving myself, no matter what.

All this is fine to write down but what I really need is someone I love, someone I desire-
 who would watch me
crumble and cry
and do nothing to wipe my tears
but whisper a song in the hollow of my ear
and smile when I'm done with my drama.
Getting up slowly, dusting the back of his pants and leading me -
On.

 "Does it ever occur to you that I am sometimes thinking?"

I look at the outstretched fingers,
waiting to touch the corner of my eyes.
Don't you see, you were me then?
Listen carefully-
Your voice is in my head.

A day for love in a year of indifference.
Dark rain washing away a desert of pain-
grain by grain.

Tonight I won't beg for you.

Oh to break down and cry in your arms!
Shedding inhibition and tears in a single night.
To open the midnight door to you heart and let
myself tiptoe in-
Stopping in dismay,
exclaiming in agony at what I find there-
A frightened boy in a night cap,
clutching his heart to his chest.
Afraid to let go.

Blue flame
melting me down
memory by memory
till I'm but a black fleck
of all I ever was.
Burning holes in the couch
with cigarettes and the love we made.
Daylight creeping beneath fluttering eyelids
waking to a snowstorm of want.
An eyelash spiked with the remnants of tears she
cried in her sleep as I thawed.
One last time.

Evolving

 Bless those days when our love blossomed like bluebells and we crushed them under our feet,
carelessly, thoughtlessly,
reveling in our reckless bravado.

You drank dark wine from my eyes.
The dull ache behind each tear and the weekly organized fights.
Each time, falling endlessly into your arms.
And there were arms- arms and legs to enfold me close
in my very own world of sweet-smelling sweat and nicotine.

The heavy weight of peace that burst in my head each time I awoke in your embrace.
Catching my breath when I saw the fire start in your eye again
and feeling your love grow against my thigh again.

Blessed were those days.

Now, your love flashes like lightning, fleeting, white.
Ominous on a rainy summer night.
And I hear myself pacing restlessly,
tirelessly,
for you to break upon me like a storm cloud
drenching a tired desert rose with old love
and new regret.

Insatiable.

 My toes curl when I hear you murmur my name,
hotly, softly, behind my eager ear.
And then all is naked silence.
And then I am left trembling,
like a white lemon blossom,
crushed.
The final sacrifice of a tidal, ancient passion.

No Hot Bods for Me.

I don't remember the last time I found a man hot enough that I'd want him inside me.
'It's such a sad, sad situation, and it's getting more and more absurd'
I perceive this as a problem, I mean, come on, I'm 23, and not that bad looking etc,
How is it that I've never made out or slept with a hot man?
I mean.
Not ONE.
:(
Is there something wrong with me?

Also, why can't I get a guy who I like to like me back?
All my relationships are a compromise.
I be with the guys who like me.
Poor, poor me.

Fuck it.

So tomorrow is a saturday and I have extra class like from 9:30 to 3. FML..
Still.
My craving for a hot bod is NOT done.
Wanting.
Now.
:(