what?

what kind of a need is this, where you only think of people because of your own needs and not theirs?
shouldn't it be the other way round?

and i think i tripped

on what life
meant to make out of faith

Fog

you write out of my soul
using its black as the contour
lining it with a bit of silver
that was left from what
the world taught of faith
-and the shades just mingle
in words
creating a fog for my fears

None

There's this uneasy feeling, in clots of pukishness rising up my throat, as though it were the world I wanted to throw up

marriage

i know of such beautiful people who ruin each other's lives when they step into the social territory out of their natural ones


then there are suffocated stretches of silence as you wait for the TV to fill in the spaces between you

there are tears for the bed-clothes to soak when you decide its time to lock each other up next to one another

there are hands that will refuse to touch even with the memory of moments that melted what little you harness of inflated egos

hurl abuse at the walls, the dresser, the carpet

marriage - what a waste of time

Amal

He slid a cigarette between his lips, fished out light and a flame came alive.
His lit the cigarette, sucked at it and then blew.
He stood there, looking at the building adjacent to the one he was standing on, beginning the first day of the year with a little nothing to do. I fell in love with the moment.
One's fascination with the moment of smoking, has always intrigued me. It feels like nothing, which has you involved completely. I want an amal like that of my own.

mascara

so
maybe
it's
true

all that cosmetic to hide behind