A Lover’s Embrace

My lover. The only constant in my messed up life. The only one by my side without any reservations. Hes seen me at my best, but more often than that he has seen me at my worst… and he has never rejected me. Never told me that I wasn’t good enough, never told me I was a disappointment. He simply is. He asks for naught, no explanations, no excuses, no expectations. He simply loves me, unconditionally. He sees me when noone else can , and has never once turned away, no matter how dark and twisted my mind was.

My every waking thought, my deepest darkest dreams, my fantasies, my ambitions- he knows them all, and he has never judged me for them.There isn’t a single memory, not a single crevice of my wretched heart that is hidden from him.And yet he loves me with a passion I have come to crave.

He has never left my side- not while I was silently crying myself to sleep, the pillows wet with my tears nor when loud sobs were wrecked my body.He held me through it all, comforting me…murmuring sweet nothings in my ear, encasing me in his arms until I caved and believed his half-truths. I feel safe, cocooned in his embrace, safe in the knowledge that as long as he was there, noone else could hurt me.

He prefers the death of the night, darkness when its just him and I, but sometimes he sneaks up on me, startling me with the intensity in his eyes- he can be quite playful that way. And I find it difficult to refuse him and give in, even with others are around- shameless, I know. Of course, I do prefer our trysts to be private but when its love as fiery as ours it was only a matter of time till we were found out.

Sometimes, I think he is cruel – he seems to revel in my tears, in watching each drop fall from eyes, my heart crying out for him, hearing my sobs muffled by my wrist so that no one else would hear. No one but him. Its then that I think I would be better off without him, that life would be simpler, far far easier. That he has taken over my life, overwhelmed me with the sheer strength of his will.

But then at times when he does leave me, the world no longer feels real. Nothing matters- I feel bereft of his presence, alone even in the midst of a thousand people. I can feel only numbness, not even grief or loss. It is then that I really just how much a part of my life he is, how much I crave him. How lost I feel without him.

So whats a girl to do – I try to catch his eye again. Its not too difficult, not when he is as fond of me as I am of him.So I take a blade and with surgical precision cut- not too deep , just enough to draw blood. And I feel him, in my veins ,in the quickening of my pulse, in each crimson drop that falls.And in that instant , I know we are inseparable, that beyond any rhyme or reason, I have become dependent on him. For , now he , and he alone makes me feel alive.

My anchor in a tumultuous ocean. My haven.My lover- le douleur exquise…

The Snow Globe

Ever felt as though you were trapped in a snow globe? A pretty little world , with all the colours you can dream up… Where there is joy, peace and contentment… Whee you are you, no pretenses, no reason to prove yourself, no fear of falling short , of not being good enough.Someplace safe, where its just possible to be…To be free. A veritable utopia of books, art, sunshine and rainbows

But freedom always comes with a price.No matter how much you hide, no matter how sheltered you feel, no matter how carefully you build your haven, there is always a price. A price for freedom, a price for dreams and a price for happiness.

Because you see my snow globe is in someone else’s hands. If this were a fairy tale, I would call her a witch with a crooked nose, warts shrouded in a black cloak, cackling as she plotted new and devious ways of torture. But this is neither a fairy tale, nor is my puppeteer malevolent.There are no princes on white horses, noble knights to save the trapped princess, no one to champion my cause, no one to battle my dragons nor to come to my aid or offer solace.

Reality is never as simple. My jailor is not evil. It would have been far easier if she were. She has no malice towards me nor does she revel in my miseries. She is not sadistic. In fact she is nothing. She’s a shadow, that rustle of movement you see out of the corner of your eye, the last thing you remember as you awaken from a distressing dream. She simply is.

Sometimes she shakes the little snow globe. Its so pretty you see. Snowflakes dancing in the air.And then she shakes a little harder. The snow comes down faster, harder, sucking away at the warmth till all you can feel is the cold, and it chills you to the bone.There is no escape from it, nowhere to huddle for warmth or safety. The ground beneath your feet moves, little tremors at first and then the earth shakes so badly that you search in desperation for something to hold on to. Some constant, in a world that is rapidly becoming unfamiliar and scary.

Slowly everything dies around you , while you look on, helpless. The colours leach away, leaving nothing but a dull gray all around.You watch as your world you had so painstakingly built crumbles around you, unable to stop the inevitable sequence of events sure to follow, powerless, unable to even look away until you accept defeat, resigned to your fate and simply close your eyes, waiting for it to end.

You collapse just as your world did. Your spirit broken.You would expect to feel pain, anguish but even that is denied to you. All you feel, all you are capable of feeling is the numbness. It courses through you veins, much as the cold did.Your very life, your essence, your will to live trickling away to nothingness. You sit in the midst of the ruins, wondering where to start, or how, or even if its possible to rebuild everything you have lost. And if it would be worth it if you did.

And, the worst part, the truly horrifying part, is that even when you think its over, that the worst has passed and you have tided over, picked yourself up, is the fact that, you don’t know when or how, but you know in the deepest darkest corner of your heart that it will happen again. The happiness, the pain, the destruction and the helplessness at the hands of an entity older than time,far too powerful to defeat. That there is no escape from the snow globe.

House of Mirrors

Have you ever been in a maze? A house of mirrors? Everywhere you look you see yourself..you search frantically for an exit, some way to escape but you just drive yourself further and further into it. There’s no sense of time or direction, you run and run and run but there’s nowhere to hide.All you want is to curl up somewhere, make yourself smaller but those accusing eyes, they are everywhere…

Welcome to my life… This is what its like.Constantly 24 * 7. I can see my reflection in them- some fairly normal, others grotesque. The logical part of my mind, the feeble little voice in the back of my head tells me that the images are distorted but how do i know which ones are real and which are not?

I see them everywhere I turn… The worst is to see them reflected in other peoples’ eyes. Some show a pitiful wretch, weak , needy, sad. Others show disgust- how could someone be so weak? So immersed in their own lives when there are people living through much worse? Scorn for someone who can’t even try to get better much akin to those begging in street corners.And some loathing- for someone who makes up excuses for everything.for not getting up on time, not completing work for disrupting everything.And then there are the ones indifferent- maybe they care and have no idea what to do to help or maybe it matters so little that it could be ignored. The worst are the ones with misery written all over them- grief and helplessness, of having to stand by and watch while I struggle to find my way back.

How does one break free? Pound at the glass walls, wail , shriek and howl for help? Only the echoes of your own cries in eerie silence for company. So you hit the walls and you hit them till they break… your hands bleeding from the shards as they cut through. But even that is a welcome relief- to be able to feel pain or at least anything other than the numbness. So I keep hitting, my hands cut to pieces, blood everywhere and still there’s no way out, nowhere to go.and the worst part of it all, the shards that litter the floor, glittering ominously – you see a thousand reflections in each blood stained piece.

You hope for reprieve… but you know what they say- break a mirror and seven years of bad luck awaits.

Trapped in a House of Mirrors…