The Idea-smithy

Poison,
Was laced into
The first glass of sweet wine you offered me
Since then even water tastes like fire
From betrayal is born vindictiveness
And for those of us who never forget
It is akin to the demon child born of a mortal womb
You will always be the poison in my sweet wine

Sometimes,
you close your eyes
to shut out the whole world
Pretending,
you’re the only one in it
For a piece
of that illusory peace
 
 
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
 
 
Sometimes,
you close your eyes
And leave them shut
Just to see if,
when you open them
the other person is still there
 
 
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
 
Speakers interchanged
But the words stayed true.

The week
What a week!
she winced
Every morning waking up with a bad headache
A foul taste in her mouth and the most unpleasant feeling of all…
That the world was just the way she had left it the previous night
Improved not a whit, insurmountable problems waiting to plague her again
No respite.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
The night
Evening was a haze of cigarette smoke [...]

He looks at her from the corner of his eye
Thinking she won’t notice
Secretly hoping she will
So secret, he won’t even admit to himself
She feels his look
Like sunlight, warm on her cheeks
Her eyes stay downcast
Shielded from his blinding gaze
Warmed nevertheless by its intensity
Then it starts to rain.

Her parents say that she was born talking.
Then she discovered writing
English grammar compositions
Stories and poetry
Letters and emails
Chats and instant messaging
SMSes, orkut scraps
Resumes and reports
Then she stumbled onto blogging
And anonymous posting
Even editing and deleting
And much later, private publishing
But silence is yet to be learnt.

Happy birthday!
Paper rustling, excitement tinged with apprehension
Glittering, blinding.. sheer intoxication
I can’t accept this, it’s too expensive!
So what? It’s just money.
Too much of it!
It doesn’t matter, there’s plenty.
Exactly.
When it is about something else,
that matters more,
even if there’s very little of it,
I’ll be delighted to accept.

When we kiss, do you close your eyes?
Or are you looking over my shoulder to see if someone better comes along?
I keep my eyes open,
checking if you close your eyes!
How come you don’t trust me?
Because you don’t trust me.
How do you figure that?
Because you ask too many questions!