When Two Worlds Collide

My world collides with hers – my order her chaos,

I operate on reason; she is flooding emotions.

My vision is the opposite of hers – facts based on documents,

Her is just a feeling – nothing more.

Every time I speak she rolls her eyes on me,

As if she is tired of the boring citations from the countless books I’ve read.

Every time she speaks I feel utterly confused from the confidence she has

Yet I never seem to take her seriously – her truth is always an inkling.

…

She is the Yang to my Yin – yet I don’t want to admit it.

Her unruly world pulls me in harder; I lose touch with my reality.

Her voice so silent yet so powerful keeps me unarmed, yet always in unease.

Muffled words – unclear if she is imagining again or telling it how it actually is.

My world collides with hers on every instance – she is like a raging river mid monsoon season,

I am steadfast, grounded like centuries old uninhabited forest.

She is the hurricane of raw excitement,

Yet I am the harsh dessert – both dangerous in their domain.

And here I stand perplexed of how this mayhem is so appealing to me – everything I am not,

Everything I am running away from.

My world colliders with hers – the brightness of the known and darkness of what it might have been.

She is the sinner in the eyes of other, I am the saint who is meant to be.

One word and I am again disoriented, lost in her thoughts provoking me step out of the clear lines.

Is she trying to kill me with her mischievous smile or trying to free me from my caged mind?

Is she the punishment for my self-resentment or the salvation of my tortured consciousness?

…

My world collides with hers every breath I take – she is my reflection in the broken mirror,

She is everything I am trying to be – so effortless and charming,

She is my inner voice of what I really need.

When nights are cold and days are heavy, she is always next to me – indivisible to others

But so real to me.

I have fallen for her strength yet I am unable to see her in me.

She is bold to the bone, refuses to bow when I am willing to bend the knee

She is what I am capable of but yet scared to take the leap of faith.

She is me but not controlled by fears, always free.

One day I wish these two worlds embrace each other not colliding like a war for power.

One day I wish her to be on the other side of the mirror, not trapped by frames and reflective surfaces,

One day I wish she closes the door from the other side not me!   

 

Intoxicated by Guilt

 

Lost underneath the veil of darkness,

Drunk from sorrow bottled up for ages inside me,

Fated in loneliness,

Guilty of losing what I cherished most.

I longed for being someone else’s anchor in the stormy sea,

I longed for being someone else’s fundament,

I longed for being someone else’s morning or solace,

I longed for being someone else’s sun in a cloudy day.

…

Yet the dawn was never mine, the sunset is kissing the tired eyes

I scream under the moonlight like a hurt wolf.

She drives me crazy, calling silently my name,

She forces me to give up my dreams and follow the pack instinct,

Compelling me to turn into wild animal – unleashed.

…

Lost underneath the veil of the darkness I am still drunk,

Eyes lying me as if the morning will ever come,

Fight my battles – yet alone,

I am so wasted, unable to connect,

Fulfilling foreign dreams, not for me

Even though I wished to be drained from the rain of beloved laughter.

…

Lost underneath the veil of the darkness I am insanely intoxicated,

Still unable to sober up.

But it’s not the alcohol circulating in my blood stream like an oil in the old machine,

It’s the guilt eating me alive, like a ghost my mistakes haunt me,

Wrong decisions made when I was young.

My intoxication took control and buried me beneath the locked emotions,

My consciousness refuses to acknowledge the growth I’ve had – eternal punishment.

…

Lost underneath the veil of the darkness I am ultimately juiced,

A drunkhead with no hopes and dreams,

The liquid courage now poisoned me - weakness, unforgiven sins.

I refuse to become clear-headed, this world was never meant to me,

I prefer to dim my light, be invisible, an outcast, cold-hearted.

And yet the numbness starts to fade away, I am not ready to face myself -

I just need another glass.

The Sound of My Undoing

Reflection unknown is looking at me through the mirror –

Half lively, half dead.

Is this what I have become?

Life transferred from someone else – not mine.

I bent my head, neck arched like a black swan,

Still unfamiliar with the staring gaze –

Is this the best of what I can?

I have completely forgotten my mission in life,

I have suppressed my desires for someone.

Why did I make that fatal choice?

Was it worth the sacrifices when I am unrecognizable?

I keep staring at the mirror – so unsurprisingly distant.

I can’t remember which decision turned me into that stone.

What have I done?

…

Eyes empty – sparkles lost ages ago,

I kept lying to myself that everything will be fine.

Mouth shut – voice stolen no one knows when

When my opinion stopped being cherished,

I chose silence instead of the scream I wanted to let loose.

I keep looking this face – ghost pale, looks like death.

Why did I settle on life which was never meant for me?

I see eyes soulless – as empty as barren ground

A reflection of life lived wrong.

I lost the sharpness of the mind once I had,

I keep looking but something is missing – my spirit is gone.

My soul turned into ashes spread through the world once bright,

Desires buried beneath the blanket of fear that I can never make it,

Venomous whispers of “friends” held dear, now empty chairs on my table called life.

I keep seeking, I keep trying to remember – still nothing,

What is wrong with me?

…

Finally, I broke the silent song of my undoing with the painful scream of my rebirth,

The mirror shattered and in every little piece I start to see me again.

Fragments of my soul is shinning through the looking glass on the floor beneath my feet.

Each cut on my hand a reminder – I have sacrificed enough

The ghost in front of me is no longer mine, I will keep it in the past.

I will blur it, I can breathe at last.

I have gathered the broken pieces of my soul when all was said and done,

Free of whispers and fears installed in me by their projections,

I let the pain of losing myself engulf me,

In the end I can start over – no one is putting their shapes onto me.

My song will be angry in sounds, destruction in my lyrics,

And ugly truth in every note I sing.

Let the water in my voice drawn what once confined me

And from the ruins of my silence to be once more whole.

 

For Those Who Remain

Raise your glass to the Seeker, the curious one

Always looking for new adventures to spice up their existence

With unquenching thirst for new sensations

Never leaves stones unturned until the curiosity lives within.

Raise your glass to the Risk-taker,

The one who is brave to face fears and manages to win.

Even they lose the passion burns unstoppably until they prove themselves right or wrong.

Chasing the thrill of the unknown until their last breath goes out of their lungs.

Raise your glass to the Believer, the one who has undying faith even when the days are darker,

Even when the nights are cold, they keep going.

No matter how hopeless is the situation they’ve learnt to keep believing

As long as they stay true what their heart dictates them – ultimate belief in higher powers,

Confidence unmeasurable, strong will.

Raise your glass to the Builder – the one who is not afraid to turn the ashes into lush gardens,

The one skilled with hands and manner, language and presence.

The one taking the most impossible projects turning them from dreams into reality.

The one who is not afraid from the dirt on their hands, from the filth in their minds

As long as they keep creating what they deem worthy of developing.

Raise your glass to the Truth-finder – the one who never lives into the mist of what the others think is appropriate.

Their hunger for truth keeps them going into the vastness of the untold,

Their passion for transparency moves them to the boundlessness of what was never revealed.

Their longing for uncovering what lays hidden is dangerous yet captivating to be followed –

Like a play in the theater masks are falling – ugly truths on display, angry mobs tailing.

Their courage is tremendous, deserving recognition in the fake world we are currently live in.

Raise your glass to the Thriver – the one who stands still even through the harshest storms,

The one who turns each scar into a valuable lesson,

Making each loss into an art of who be reborn stronger than before.

The one who never claims they are broken even though every pain paints on their mind and body.

They do not seek for easiness but seek the deeper meaning

And in every ending they still manage to find a chance be better.

Their compass is called hope, the resilience is their form of art

And in silence they sing the song of patience.

They dance together with the chaos, maniacally laughing at the uneven odds,

They knowing endurance can make them last this long.

…

And with this poem my trilogy of remembrance of those who stay hidden comes to an end.

It was my pleasure to shed a light on all of you who are often left unspoken

As if your stories do not worth telling.

I raise the glass to those I may have forgotten, it was never meant to be.

I salute your strongest features, being true to yourselves in world where noise is the currency of choice.

May your inner strength quietly echo longer than the loudest pretenders try do.

To the unseen, the loyal, the unapologetically real – my final toast is to you. 

 

The Drifter

 

I am walking the streets once familiar,

Filled with cherished memories

Now I feel them faded, barely existing in my head.

I loved those cobblestones streets,

Now so indifferent to me – foreign under my steps.

Once I dreamt of living there till my walk on this world comes to an end,

Now I feel nothing – no magic, no happiness, no belonging.

You are so ancient yet so alien – I don’t see myself spending a day more here.

…

Unlike you I am changed,

You are so unmoved, yet I keep going.

The same bells disrupting the silence every Sunday at 7 am,

Same cold winter wind sings its songs every morning from October to December.

I tried to belong to you, I felt you crawling under my skin

Desperate to find my place under the sun, yet I was mistaken.

I carved my name into your vast history,

Yet I will stay unknown like an ancient concubine into the emperor’s harem.

Fourteen years yet I feel like I am visiting you,

Even though I know every path ant turn by heart,

My shadow engraved into the pavements as if I am part of you,

A stranger to a place I once called home,

The lights from the windows don’t feel warm.

All those benches are sitting next to the river,

I meet with friends in those cafes, yet the same places do not bring more familiarity.

…

I speak your language but my soul is not one with yours

My roots cannot live here, nor anywhere else – I am visitor wherever I go.

You keep your rhythm so slow paced,

My heart dances under the melody of different drums.

Your silences weigh on my heart like a boulder,

My light doesn’t shine with your intensity.

Your stillness cannot stop the movements I have been craving lately.

I hoped for understating and a happy life –

This nativity slipped through your cracks like the water spills from my hands.

You leave me shapeless, lost and forgotten between the names you love more.

The more I stay here, the more I drift into your limbo,

Caught between fake belonging and honest departure -

A familiar stranger walking the historical streets which never called my name.

…

I hoped the time I spent there will make you mine

But it only showed me how wrong I am – no match for these narrow passages.

You will outlast me, standing still from ancient times till now.

And I am receding – a name that never settled,

A story which I left unclaimed.