Purple, Purple, Purple...

Purple purple purple
It is purple thorns everywhere
A thorn called guilt
A thorn called shame
A thorn called pain
They prick and make me bleed a dark blood
I pull them out one by one
They leave deep gashes all over me
The bleeding gashes sooth me now
And cast their dark shadows
I hide in the purple darkness
Afraid of sun and light
I shield in the pain of isolation
Scarred but scared of your healing love
I close I shut I stop
No more No more No more
I stop trying to make you mine
I stop hoping for togetherness
I stop breathing your fragrance
I stop craving your warmth
I know my place and that of all
I know I will never belong
Purple thorns, purple gashes, purple shadows are all mine
The thorns don’t prick and the blood has stopped
But the throbbing remains and ever will
I scratch the wounds where they hurt most
But the blood has gone dead cold
They find expression in my tears
The salty tears I drink
I take a piece of ice and rub the purple anew
Purple purple purple
The marks are all that’s left

-Monica

Desire

In longing I sigh
In yearning I cry
To pine in your hold
To dissolve in your world
To breathe on your lips silently
To break into bits fervidly

If finding you is a soulful anxiety
Missing you is acheful bliss

-Mon

My Dream

I breathe in the wild wild winds;
And hold the crashing waves within;
I pick the hues of the open skies;
I gather the scattered silver stars-
And weave them all into a dream.

A dream filled wih your fragrance;
A dream packed with your colors;
A dream bursting with your feel;
A dreamflowing with your bliss;

A dream that sleeps with desire;
A dream that wakes in hope;
A dream that blossoms in sweet slumber;
And dies in the bitterness of lonely nothingness.

-Monica

I hear the echo of laughter
Full of colors and life
The shrieks of pleasant surprises
Bathed in the bright hues
That must be joy round the corner
My benumbed mind senses
I reach out and call
A hollow moan reckons
I grope in the emptiness around
And whisper out a wish
The fading blues comfort me
I beckon the long lost dream
It flows through trickling tears
That fill my cracked smile
I recall the nostalgia of love
It still takes my breath away
I warm to the feel of touch
It makes me trepidate in hope
Even the grip of your thoughts
Makes me writhe in helplessness
I crush the mounting passion
Wanting to be strong again
I shut out the joys
I squeeze out the colors
I wipe out the traces of every smile
I feel strong again with my loneliness
And my very blue company of tears
Until the shadows of our memories
Crack my secure world again
I dream, I hope, I desire
For a touch of your lips
A caress of your smile
A haven of your strong arms
I want to live and die in you just one more time
Till all that is dead in me comes alive
…And till I kill any trace of life ever again

-Monica

A Gesture Too Subtle

It has been a drab of a day. A mix of too much for the broth to taste good. I feel exhausted, wasted, and brain dead. I walk monotonously across the passageways of my office moving from my floor to the library to the break-out and back to my desk. Thoughtless, absent minded lost. One door after another open close open close. I swipe my access card proving my presence, physically atleast, and wait for the door to bang in my face as another weary employee walks out, dead with patience I await my turn to walk out. No bang on the face? Click back to reality. Wow the guy who just moved out is holding the door for me. I realize this is where I truly need to be polite. I want to say a word but he is busy on the phone, yet his face does not show any sign of impatience or the get on darn am holding the door looks. I smile and hope I conveyed it all.

That was nice, I tell myself. A series of thoughts cross my mind, he is probably as tired and brain dead as I am, as busy trying to make a balance out of life, speaking on the phone, swiping his card, trying to run out, yet just a thoughtful gesture also makes him reach out, to someone unknown. I say thank you a little loud, my smile is a little brighter, but maybe the newness shows on my face. In acknowledgement he nods and walks slowly but steadily away.

I ask myself what felt good, meeting a gentleman after eons or being trated a lady after ages?

-Mon

Crack-up,

A stained window, a broken pane
A distorted vision, colorless again
A dark alley, echocing with voices,
A lost day, without any choices,

A scarred body, scatched again,
A soiled soul, crippled in pain,

Grab a ray, the sun will set
Chase a smile, love will reject
Touch the ripples, stillness will regret

Attempt to stand, to stagger and fall
Search for the present, and past will recall

Scratch the wounds, guilt floods
Smell the acrid, scent of blood

Choke, cry and ask the why
Breathe again only to die

-Monica

Random Thoughts...

All ruined.....ashes, carcasses, hollowness......pain again, dull but deep.....gashes that leave a numbing ache.....acrid memories.....stale fragrances....dead tears....empty emotions....caustic smiles...a soiled soul.....a beating heart.......and nothingness!