Isolation-I

He was pleading with her now, the nerve. Her eyes narrowed even as he continued to speak, his own burning brighter with every small step he took in her direction. It was just wrong. It was the last chance either of them had, and she wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to tell him what she had come here to say, burn with the fierceness of his cruel, taunting words and then leave when the daggers turned into ice, confident in her ability to walk away. And, he was enraged; she could feel it in the way his presence seemed to fill the room, in the way his jaw clenched, so painfully that, for a second, she had to fight the urge to run to him and apologize, beg forgiveness for whatever had caused him to be so angry with her.. Until she remembered what she had come to say.

Except, something was wrong.

She couldn't move away, couldn't avert her gaze, couldn't leave, and she didn't know what to do with the way he allowed his words to caress her, promise her, reassure her.. just as he had done countless number of times before. Never with words, though. That wasn't allowed for him. Not by either of them. Her throat constricted as she realized what that meant. He already knew..

But, she still couldn't leave. Not when his eyes darkened as he spoke, cajoling her exhausted mind to remember what they had never really acknowledged. He was breaking their rules, and she was watching, mesmerized, even as their binds on him strengthened and loosened, the restraints digging deeper and deeper into his very being. And she watched him, until she was certain that he would not refrain, would not relent. And that is when she knew; They were already caged. Always had been. Except theirs was meant to keep the world out. And she couldn't leave him alone in here, not when his eyes glinted at her, sharp and loud in the moonlight, even though his voice was quiet. Not while she could count exactly how many steps she would have to take to reach him. Not while he said her name, over and over, in a voice, which she realized would never fade, never stop echoing..

There was no escape.

Untitled (Ophelia)

Dream that faded dream again
Watch the lilies wind away
And you turn to out-run the rain
If you'd only beg me to stay.
Giddy with mirth, she appears
Follow this path you shan't tread on
Watch me go, I carry your fears
and soon, it will have been too long
Seven steps ahead, and then a mile
Perhaps a plea shall slow us down?
Or perhaps we shall only smile
While I seem to forget not to drown
Lies? A mad girl does not lie
She skibbles down paths that just aren't there
Reach out for the pure blue sky
and I'm sorry we seem to forget to care
Call my name just once again
Let the river bring you to me
Oh, but you're running from the rain
and I never said that I would not leave
Is there really nothing left to say?
Will you not let me live your lie?
Will you never ask me to stay?
Then it's goodbye my love, Goodbye.

Untitled

(Originally typed out on 06th June 2008)

She poured out another shot and downed it. After an entire week of agonizing, she had made up her mind. She was going to go talk to him tonight, no matter what. And as she slipped out of the dim bar determinedly, she even had the entire conversation planned out in her head. What she would say in response to every thing he could say. She had even decided where they would talk and how she would bring about the topic. She was sick of the thoughts rattling in her head. And tired of trying to guess what he was thinking.

He stood outside on the balcony, a half forgotten cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. It was a nice night. He looked back into the house and saw the file lying on the table. An odd expression flitted across his face, and then he smiled, taking a deep drag and exhaling slowly into the cold night air. It was going to be a long night.

So, after a few more shots of vodka - for the warmth - she made her way across the busy streets towards his house. It was a pretty night. The city lights drowned out most of the stars, but the ones that she could still see were beautiful enough. She was wearing her black dress. The one she was wearing the first time they had met. She wondered if he would notice, or remember... She didn't think so... She didn't know if she wanted him to... It would be less painful if he had forgotten. She didn't know why but she wanted to see him while she was in it, considering it was the last time she was going to see him, at least for a while.

He made his way into the house and sat down in the dimly lit room. He glanced up at the file and muttered to himself. A short laugh followed by a frown. He looked away from the table and his gaze fell upon the small box lying under a chair. Standing up, he made his way towards it, a strange look upon his face. Kneeling by the chair, he pulled out the box with slightly trembling hands. It fit in his palm, and he stared at it for a long while.

It wasn't like she wanted him back, she reminded herself. It was just that this needed to be over, and the only way she could do that was talk to him, get it out of her system. She wasn't going to cry. No matter what, she was not going to cry. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she made her way to the sidewalk where she sat down at the edge of the road, resting her head against a cool metal pole. She knew she shouldn't be drinking. Not tonight. She pulled out a cigarette and a matchbox. Unable to light it because of the way her hands were shaking, she rummaged around in her bag until she found the lighter. Click. Light. Drag. Something fluttered to the ground, and as she picked up the faded photograph, a tear finally found its way down her pale face.

It seemed like he hadn't moved for hours. He knew he shouldn't open the box. God knows he wanted to, but he couldn't. Not now. It would surely destroy him. Turning it around he traced the crack along the side of it with his thumb. He closed his eyes as if something had just stabbed him in the heart. Why tonight? Why did he have to find it tonight?? Pictures ran through his mind and his eyes shot open. No. He couldn't close his eyes right now. It made him remember. He didn't want to. Not now.

She looked up at the house. The address seemed right, though it looked as if no one was home. She walked up to the door... and suddenly, it all seemed too pointless. What was the use? She was kidding herself if she thought one conversation would actually help her. But this wasn't about her. She owed him an apology... No... She owed him an explanation. She stared at the door bell for a while, and shook her head. A rain drop fell from the skies and she turned to leave...

He stared at the box for what seemed like eternity. The cool wind told him it was about to rain. Rain. He hated the rain. He hated it because it reminded him of strawberries and long sad conversations... and because it reminded him of the last time he had seen her. Had she been crying? It was impossible to tell because of that rain... Standing up suddenly, he made his way unsteadily to the phone. Holding the receiver up to his ear, he dialed the all-to-familiar number. It had been so long, yet every digit was engraved in his memory.

She walked away quickly from the house, suddenly afraid of running into him. Her flight out of the country was in a few hours. A few more hours and she would never see him again.
No. That moment passed by the last time it rained. As the water started falling faster from the skies, she looked up and smiled, glad it was raining. But, it didn't really matter anymore... This time there was no one around to hide the tears from. And there were no tears to hide. Making her way onto the porch of an empty house, she leaned against the pillar and slid to the ground. There was no point. None.

An image of her in her long black dress made its way into his mind and he hung up before it connected. What could he say? There was nothing he could offer as way of explanation. The truth would only hurt more than the silence did. She couldn't know. He couldn't let her find out. The file on the table seemed to mock him. Leaning against the wall, he raised his eyes to the ceiling. There was no point. It was over.

And so the door was never opened, and the phone never answered. Simply because she never knocked... and he never called. And the faded photograph continued to fade away in a corner of the bag while the broken box stayed broken. The rain continued to fall on two people halfway across the world from one another... and even though it shouldn't have mattered because there was no point... it continued to matter.

Happy Valentine's Day. Bleh.

The Perfect Guy

TAKE THIS SURVEY!

Section 1

Hair color?
Black

Eye color?
Black/brown/gray

Height?
Around 6 feet

Six pack?
Yes please *laughs*

Long hair or short?
Short and messy

Glasses?
Doesn't matter

Piercings?
Bonus

Eyebrows?
-

Buff or skinny?
Skinny

Teeth?
-

Section 2

Funny or serious?
A nice blend

Party-hopper or more stay-at-home?
Party at home?

Should he be able to bake or cook?
Both

Does he have a best friend?
Yes

Is it okay for him to have a lot of female friends?
It's okay, but I'd prefer it if his guy friends were way more in number. Don't know why.

Out-going or shy?
A combination

Sarcastic or sincere?
Sincerely sarcastic... haha.

Does he love his mother?
I suppose so. Doesn't matter.

Should he watch chick-flicks?
Only if he has nothing else to do.

Would he be a smoker?
Probably. Actually, yes.

How about drinking?
Yeah

And swearing?
Irrelevant

Would he play with your hair?
I dunno

Would he have more than one girlfriend at a time?
NO

Would he pay for you when you're on a date?
No

Does he kiss on the first date?
No

Where would you go for dinner?
Somewhere with nice music

Would he buy you flowers?
Once a year at the most

Would he lay under the stars with you and spout random philosophies?
*sigh* yes?

Would he write poetry about you?
Songs would be cooler

Would he use endearments?
Probably

Would he hang out with your and YOUR friends?
Once in a while, even though he wouldn't like it very much

How about you hanging out with him and HIS friends?
Once in a while

Would he walk you up to the door at the end of the evening?
Yes

Would you hold hands?
Not too often

Section 3

Does he play soccer?
Yes

Baseball?
Irrelevant

Football?
Irrelevant

Basketball?
Often

Water polo?
Irrelevant

Golf or something equally boring?
Irrelevant

Does he surf?
That would be cool

Skateboard?
Bonus!!!

Snowboard?
Irrelevant

Can he sing?
Yes

Play the guitar?
Yes. Definitely.

Play piano?
Hmmm...

Play the drums?
Yes

Can he keep his room clean?
Lol, doesn't matter

Is he an artist of sorts?
Yeah...

Does he write his own music?
Once in a while... and it's great

Does he have pets?
He loves them

Section 4

Does he use the word dude?
Yeah

How about tight?
Only to describe music

Would he watch the sun rise and set with you?
If we're awake, why not?

What kind of car does he drive?
One that he loves

How old is he?
About a couple of years older than me

What's his name?
*sigh* I wish I knew...

CLICK HERE TO TAKE THIS SURVEY!
MySpace Surveys

Blinded

"Blinded (When I See You)"

- Third Eye Blind

Just an old friend coming over now to visit you and
That's what I've become
I let myself in though I know I'm not supposed to but
I never know when I'm done

And I see you fogging up the mirror
Vapor around your body glistens in the shower
And I want to stay right here and go down on you for an hour
Or stay, and let the day just fade away
In wild dedication, take the moment of hope
And let it run, and never look back at all the damage we have done now
To each other
But when I see you, it's like I'm staring down the sun
And I'm blinded
There's nothing left to do
Still I see you

I never believed that things, they happen for a reason and
They never go as planned
I wanted to thank you for a vision that was lost that you returned but
You're passed do you understand

Now her appetite is blown, little else is known
Except she's a little angry, grabs a towel and looks away
And heat fades with the day
And I fall down on what to say,
Oh something clean, let me be clever
Hey, oh well whatever
But that's not what I mean
When where we've been has left us burned
Still I won't turn now from a fight you know I'll never win

So when I see you, you know all the things I've done
Well I'm blinded
Like I'm staring down the sun
When I see you
It's like I'm staring down the sun

Time, it passes and it tells us what we're left with
We become the things we do
Me, I'm a fool, spent from defiance, yeah you got me but
I didn't give up on you

Icarus is not a tee shirt or a swan song, no
He is born again and it's not easy being me
But I can't promise I will mend or bend
When you believe that we are fixed now from our birth
And I've just fallen back to earth
Still you know I'll try again
Cause I believe that we are lucky
We are golden we're stolen manners
In the days when we were one

[Chorus]
So when I see you, despite all that we've become
I'm still blinded
But I'm still staring down the sun
When I see you
I'm blinded

An old friend?
Lets refrain from throwing words around, shall we?
When has "Not supposed to" ever stopped you before???
You come and go as you please, don't you?
Who am I to tell you this isn't the right time?
Who am I to ask you to stay?

The days fade whether you're here or not.
And I'm used to the silence now, so please, make yourself comfortable.
Don't worry about the damage.
I owe you as much as you owe me.
So lets just stop counting wounds and have another drink.
Isn't that what friends are supposed to do?
And isn't that what we're supposed to be?
Friends?
Would you like some soda with that punch?

Don't thank me.
Stick to the rules.
It's your game.
They're your rules.

Angry?
Anger takes feeling.
And I feel nothing for you.
Not anymore.

I have no energy for this fight.
But I'll still play along.
Let's just keep pretending.
Does that suit you?
I think it fits perfectly.

So, lets...
Lets pretend we're friends.
Lets pretend you actually give a damn.
And lets pretend I'm still waiting...

...
If we become the things we do...
well, you're dead.
And I?
I am a ghost.
And no, they're not the same.

Icarus flew too close to the sun.
He didn't fly away into space without a goodbye.
You don't have to promise.
I'll never ask you to.
Just don't ask me if it's because I don't believe in promises...
or because I don't believe in you...

You always came and went as you wished, didn't you?
Don't let me be the one to change that.

Lucky?
Golden?
Still pretending, are we?
Anything for you.
Isn't that how this game worked?
...

You made your choice.
You were the one who left.
You don't get to turn this around.
And you do not get to blame me.

Tell me what you want.
Say what you're here to say.

Stay as long as you want.
But... this time, when you leave
Please don't come back...

I can't keep waiting for things you're never going to say or do.
And I can't keep staring at the sun...

Untitled

They were two wounded soldiers, fighting a pointless war, out of bullets. Two soldiers talking about nothing at all; unable to ask the other which side he was fighting on, perhaps because they didn’t want to know... or perhaps because it just didn’t matter anymore.

He looked up at her as she pulled out a cigarette from the half empty pack. Half empty. He guessed that made him a pessimist. She closed her eyes as she lit it. He noticed that. That, and the fact that her hair fell about her face in an almost apologetic way while she was lighting it. He said almost because she was too proud to ever be able to look apologetic. Angry? Easily. Annoyed? Definitely. Disappointed? Yes. Sad? Sometimes…. But apologetic? It just wasn’t possible.

She took a long drag and opened her eyes. Kohl filled dark eyes that always seemed like they meant to say something more but didn’t know how to. Or at least that’s how she imagined them to look. A conversation from a lifetime ago floated through her head along with the strains from the music at the bar.

“You have creepy eyes.”

“Creepy? Thanks! What the hell is that supposed to mean anyway?”

“Err… I didn’t mean it like that… It’s just… well, they’re too blank. I can never tell what you’re feeling”

Water.

Cold water.

She always thought that her eyes were what betrayed her. Years of practice had taught her how to hold that mask in place. Blank and smooth, like nothingness itself. It was the best weapon disguised as a perfect shield. In reality, it couldn’t stop anything. Definitely not pain. But it was proud. And it made the opponent determined to break you. And so, the words got crueller and the blows harder, but as long as you didn’t flinch, you won. It wasn’t exactly a fun game, but it captivated her.

Her eyes were always what gave her away. She could hold back any emotion, but her eyes reflected what she felt. Even the slightest hurt would make them widen, kind words would make them quiver and sometimes they would soften. Luckily, most people couldn’t read her eyes… but she still felt betrayed… and a little reassured. She did not like losing control… but she liked knowing something about her was still natural. Still… human.

And he had said her eyes were blank…

She looked at the man across the table. She couldn’t exactly place the look he had on his face, which bothered her. She was good at reading people. Really good… but when it came to him, it frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. She sighed and took another drag from her burning cigarette, watching as he lit one of his own.

He wondered what he should say now. She looked like she was waiting for him to say or do something. It was like playing a game of poker and suddenly realizing it was your turn… except the difference was he really had no idea what game he was supposed to be playing right now, and that just made things a lot harder.

He asked her what she wanted to drink and they both ordered their shots. Brandy for him because his throat still hurt. She asked for a Whiskey. Straight. And he couldn’t help nor explain the smile that flitted across his face.

She looked down into her drink with the saddest eyes he had ever seen on anyone. When he called her name, she looked up at him and smiled. And the question he had been planning to ask seemed pointless. Of course she was okay. Didn’t she look like she was okay? A perfect defence he didn’t know how to cross. And so, he let it be, shaking his head as she looked up at him curiously.

Her name. It had always felt alien to her. Yet every time he said it, it felt as if it belonged to her. She really couldn’t imagine being called anything else, though she strongly suspected she would feel the same no matter what he called her. It had always been like that. From the very beginning. She loved the way he said her name…

Oh, but it wasn’t love, she thought as he raised his eyebrow at something she had said. That didn’t mean she knew what it was. Nor did it mean she understood. All she knew as she glared at him while he laughed at her was that it felt… real. Comeback after comeback, and it felt good. It made her feel almost alive. Almost. As he chuckled again, she wondered if he felt the same way. And as he looked up at her with his expression changing from amusement to one that was puzzled, she knew her eyes were betraying her again.

She smiled at him, and the confused look on his face made her giggle, which confused him even further, but he laughed anyway. She didn’t laugh like this very much. And it made him oddly happy to know that he was the reason. He didn’t know why and he continued to bug her about inconsequentialities. She didn’t mind. He knew that. He could tell. Even if her eyes were hollow, they seemed to shine when she argued with him, and he liked that.

She asked him a question. He started telling her about the answer. And both of them skirted past the things they really wanted to talk about. Needed to talk about. Why did he keep disappearing? Why did she never ask him where he’d been?

They couldn’t be on opposite sides, he thought. She was too much like him. And yet, with her blank eyes and distant smile, he couldn’t even tell if she was fighting the same war… and he didn’t know how to ask. But he really didn’t think it mattered very much. At least, he thought as she laughed again and pretended to throw the glass at him as her eyes shone, not anymore…

Forgive me

She stood, waiting, at the door; bags packed, dark hair tucked neatly under a straw hat, black shoes buckled, cab waiting and a small piece of paper held safely in her hand, all ready to leave... Yet, waiting. Her eyes fell on the large grandfather clock in the corner of the room as it struck 7 and with tears suddenly filling up in her bright green eyes, she turned and ran up the familiar flight of stairs, throwing open the bedroom door... only to find that nothing had changed. Despite all the noise she had made while packing her things... He hadn't moved.

She stood in the doorway for a long time, watching him sleep. Footsteps echoing in the empty house, she then moved slowly towards the bed. She stretched one trembling pale hand out, and stopped before her fingers touched his dark hair. Short tousled hair which fell over his closed eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she had spoken to him. Was it a week ago? Longer? She didn't know. She shook her head to clear it, but instead of helping, it just made the lights brighter and the pain worse...

She grimaced and then went back to watching him. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. Calm, and almost content... He reminded her so much of the boy she once knew. She felt something cold trickle down her face. She raised her hand and then with a distant puzzled look brushed it against her face. Tears? Crying? Why would she be crying?

Standing next to the bed, frozen like a frightened child caught in a terrible nightmare, a sob escaped her and she covered her mouth, backing up till she felt the cold wall behind her. He still didn't move. She held her head in her hands, weeping silently until she slid to the ground, her body wracked with sobs.

Things were not getting better. On most days, he barely recognized her. Sure, she still loved him. She had always loved the way he smiled, and the sheepish grin he wore when he messed up something trivial... Loved how clever he was and loved how every single person adored him... loved his voice and the way he said her name...

In fact, that was how everything began. With him saying her name. That was how she had fallen in love with him... and now five years and a million lifetimes later, she wasn't even sure f he remembered what it was... She didn't know if he even knew who she was... and she didn't know who he was anymore...

This ...'impostor' in his skin. Yes.. Impostor. That was a fitting word. He still smiled at her, and his voice was still the same. He was as clever as always and every one still loved him... But... that look was not for her anymore. Now, it belonged to the vague nothingness... And though she could sit and listen to him talk for hours, he hardly said anything anymore. At least nothing that made any coherent sense... and she couldn't remember the last time he had taken her name...

Her hand flew up to the bruise on her forehead, and she winced. He had apologized... and it was not like he had really hit her. He would never do that! It was merely an accident, was it not? He was just trying to get her out of the way, was he not? Besides, when he knelt down beside her, with genuine distress in his deep brown eyes, wasn't that the same old person that she knew and loved? The person he had been before... before his eyes clouded over and everything changed...

Sitting on the cold floor, with her head in her hands, she knew that she had to leave. She could not stay here anymore.
Not with him.
Not like this.
But... she did not want to leave him... Did she?
Could she?
He needed her... didn't he?

A ghost of a laugh followed by a silenced cough. He needed her? Who was she kidding? He wouldn't even notice her absence! It would be days before he figured out she was really gone! And much longer till it sunk in that she would not be coming back...
He didn't need her.
Not one bit.
If anything, she only managed to get in his way...
She was nothing but a liability.
An empty hollow pitiful liability.
One that he had already half forgotten... and the only thing keeping her memory alive was her own presence...

She stood up, swaying unsteadily, her now dull green eyes fixed on a spot in the tattered carpet. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. She looked at the tiny piece of paper crushed in her palm. There was just one last thing to do. Slowly, she made her way to the bed and looked down at his sleeping form. Blinking back tears, she put the piece of paper next to his closed fist. Holding it in her own hands, she kissed his forehead and stood up straight again... He stirred, but did not wake up. With a smile wrenched out of hell itself and the repetition of a realization from long ago, she knew she would always love him... Edging away from the bed, she turned to run down the stairs...

This time, she did not stop at the door. The clock struck 8 and the cab pulled out of the driveway.
The girl turned to look back at the house one last time.

"Goodbye"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Him and Her - I

He walks straight to his room,
head slightly bowed.
Eyes on the floor.
No one is home.
But just in case...

Locking the door behind him
he sits on the floor
and sighs

Looking down at his once white school uniform
he decides
changing would be a good idea
He learned a long time ago
Blood on his clothes freaked his mother out
Even his father
when he himself wasn't the reason.

She walks into the house cautiously
announces her arrival
Is puzzled when no one replies
Then remembers they went out to see a movie
Sighs
Telling them about her grades could wait
Die another day starts playing in her head and she bangs her head against the wall to drive it out.
Stupid pop culture addict neighbors!

She gets grounded for a week
It doesn't really bother her
Her friends were getting annoying anyway
Lying on the floor on her back
she watches shadows dancing on the ceiling
and smiles
This was meant to be punishment?