cowboy like me

Our eyes were devices we could use to switch between worlds we had to call home because it was the only world others could see and worlds where nobody thought we stayed. Deception was the one language we could never fail to be fluent in and although we believed in kindness, we never gave it to ourselves. Happiness proved to be a mirage for though we tried, it was never ours to be owned: only to be stolen; for it was in the very search of peace that we had crumbled. We had swam through perilous waters and it somehow managed to drain every bit of goodness to ourselves from us. We were heartbreakers, yes, but the first heart we ever broke was our own. And though we tried to tell ourselves those beautiful lies of blind hope, we failed. Was life even worth living after going through those raging seas?

But you see, lying was an art we had learnt to perfect through practice. Though we could never lie to ourselves and tell us that we deserved love, we had lied to everything about our life and cursed it with an identity under which nobody could think of us as good. We were never born villains, we chose to become one so that the hopelessness in our souls felt like it belonged in our body. However, our mastery allowed us to distinguish between the images of a person with such ease. We could peer through the opaquest of hearts and manage to find just one hint of fragility. We could hunt for buried sins in eyes veiled with innocence.
Maybe that’s why we could never accept the bitter truth: that though we could never love ourselves we were capable of loving each other.

We wanted ‘us’ to be a lie as much as possible, but it was always there. And no, there was no rapid heartbeat or a innocent streak of red over my cheeks when I was first saw you. But something in the way you looked at me felt like you had entered right into that world where nobody thought I stayed. That world had emotions and you felt like a gentle touch of comfort which was only provided by home. You see, we were the bad guys in everybody else’s eyes but we couldn’t convince ourselves to be so in each other’s. Because all they saw was what we showed them but we had managed to peer right through that. We were from the same flesh and bone, and fought the same battles. We had vowed to never love again, for we did not carry the strength to let our scars breathe.
Suffocation was the coping mechanism we had enforced upon us since now more than a decade. Because though we deceived and cheated and robbed trusting eyes blind, we were weak.

Behind those fishnet hats and bold countenances was damage buried too deep to be felt. But something about you made me question everything I believed. You showed me that maybe I could show myself a mere glimpse of kindness.
Maybe, I did have the potential to truly call happiness my own.

But ultimately, the darkness had to take over the light. It was not your fault, it was just how we had fashioned ourselves. The darkness though in abundance may not be the strongest, and the light though in fractions can prove to be the more powerful. But we chose to embody darkness as the mightier, stronger entity. It was where we felt we belonged. We were bandits, and we loved our lies a little bit more. But you were the home I always wanted to call mine but never could. You were the cause of my fires and the only one who could extinguish them too. You were my only constant I could truly rely on and no, I never deserved you. We were heartbreakers, but in our efforts to go about the way we do, we ended up mending each other. And I feel that rush. The rock-hard handles of rusty gates have melted and every emotion has swung open and is rushing to reunite with the body where it is meant to reside in. It is not frozen anymore and is pulsing in my blood. You showed me the way to love myself and that pain and happiness are emotions which thought distinct in nature, come together.
Maybe, happiness could now finally be felt.


Inspired from the song ‘cowboy like me’ by Taylor Swift

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Inspiration

lalal

Photo Credits – Global Indian Stories

I wove inspiration from scraped clothes,
Tattered pieces speak enough woe,
The heart mumbled words,
Which banged against my soul,
But never came up to my throat.

When novels run out of unturned pages,
When poems run out of mystical metaphors,
And when life is a series of unspoken words and spoken silences,
She emerges,
And soothes my soul,
Whispers and calms my insanity,
And gives me hope.

The Rhapsodic Empress is the queen of concave shadows,
Her eyes mirror forgotten mottos,
She’s the beacon, she’s the stories, the forgotten warrior,
The golden memories, my mother’s lap, she’s the words,
That you wanted to say the most but you didn’t,
The ones you typed all the way through and then eventually deleted.

She bellows a tune that enchants my senses,
She wraps me in the nostalgia of intricate notes,
She sews my scars and paints my wounds,
With colours I’d forgotten exist.

She sings
An explosion of inexpressible feelings
And invisible wounds,
A journey which streaks through your soul
And shows you how deep you have fallen,
Only to be caught again.

Oh how, when I was younger I thought the music was all that mattered,
My mind swooned in the bliss of the pulsating pitch of the strings,
And here I stand,
When the melody is just an expression of the emotions my heart pumps into my veins,
I hear only what the lyrics tell me.
Where every second is a reminder,
Of that somebody.

The Rhapsodic Empress sings to my soul in every way,
She has a song prepared for every day,
I reside in the Empress’ reign with absolute faith,
As I’m aware that she’ll give me the air I need to breathe,
When the suffocation has throttled my pumping lungs.
She’ll give me the escape I crave,
From this troubled reality.

Oh thou Empress,
You’re my only addiction,
You drug me and show me amber shades of strength,
You teach me that instead of falling in hope of being caught,
By the somebody who once left you in tattered pieces,
Fall freely along with a parachute, and be your own savior.

You show me the sunrise when the rays cease to exist,
You remind me it’s my scars and my failures which make me who I am,
Don’t give up on me,
Because you make me not give up on myself,
Stay with me,
I’ll have a companion in this battle.


Originally posted on Medium through ACorneredGurl

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