A Vampire Fever Dream. 👀

he is half my soul.

the song of achilles by madeleine miller // work song by hozier // unsourced image // achilles come down by gang of youths // unsourced image

disquiet

A piece of me is always missing, Like the last block of lego that I can never seem to find One empty space right in the center of the jigsaw puzzle. I'm not sure if I lost it along the way. I'm not sure if I'm yet to find it. But lately, the gap seems more blatant. I'm anxious that it's visible to the people around me. That when they look at me, they see half a person. It's almost like I'm mimicking a being While I'm on the quest for the missing elements.

Sometimes, everything is wholesome! Golden skies, daisies, moongazing, Dusty libraries where ghosts of dead poets linger, Tight hugs, acts that mean "I'm thinking of you.", I look at my picture with my friends, smiling ear to ear And the jigsaw puzzle is complete. (or it was, then.) Some memories in me are so perfect that, The missing lego piece starts to feel like an extra piece From the table, you're trying to put together. It works fine without it, and there's nowhere to put it.

Then I'm back in my bed, back in my head. And I cannot remember how to be a whole person again I eat chocolate until I'm nauseated Or I never draw the curtains open and let the light flow through. I want to live life to the fullest, I never want to be seen in public again, I want all-consuming love, I want to believe I'm worthy of it, I want to feel complete when I'm alone, I want someone to feel complete with.

I want and I want and I want… Socrates said, (Yes, I went there) "He who is not contented with what he has, would not be contented with what he would like to have." What about, She who is never content with who she is? What about me?

“Autumn shows us how beautiful it is to let things go.”

— Unknown

Anaïs Nin, Fire: From “A Journal of Love”: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1934–1937

when stephen chbosky wrote "we accept the love we think we deserve" and hanya yanagihara wrote "x = x, he thinks. x = x, x = x."

Aesthetic: Sudden Collapse

Give me sudden collapses.  Please.

Give me stumbling and wavering and vision going blurry before going black.

Give me running and faltering and crumpling like a ragdoll.

Give me standing up mid-argument and words trailing off and eyes rolling back.

Give me slamming into things on the way down.  Give me frantic, scrambling catches by the unprepared.  Give me a soft thud and heads turning back in unison.

Give me curses, give me worry, give me eyes that close and do not open.

Give me a fight that’s over, give me looking up at the sky in relief, give me letting go.

Give me the sight of legs that no longer work, of eyes that flutter shut, of a body dropping to the floor.

 The endearing youth looks around 

Searching for something, seeking someone

All the gopi of Brij ask their darling

“What is that thee seek so dearly Girdhari?”

“Thy footsteps have become transient? 

Our anklets which chimed along with your

the melodious morning flute feels distant and silent.

What is that thee seek so dearly Govind?”

“We scan amber heaven for thou as

our kohl feels amiss without thy divine embrace,

the universe feels unfathomable and labyrinth 

What is that thee seek so dearly Vasudev?

The saccharine smile of the youth 

gazes the sky reflective of his complexion

with those bejeweled eyes affixed yet adrift

extends his sapphire hands as he says 

‘I yearn, the beauty’s euphoric darshan

she, the very presence of self

adorned in humility of Vrindaban

This Murali seeks for his Manmayi’

I yearn, for the essence of tenderness

She, who dances under nightfall luminous cape

embellished herself in ornaments from the moon,

This Keshav seeks for his Keshavi’

‘I yearn, the nectar of their name,

undiluted bliss, clinging to me like a rare perfume

melts away heavenly sinners’ lie

This Shyam seeks for his Radhe’

- nocturne 

I posted 55 times in 2022

That's 15 more posts than 2021!

27 posts created (49%)

28 posts reblogged (51%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fennecshandgf

@sleepyowlwrites

@the-shooting-star

@inkinmyskinandsoul

@judas-redeemed

I tagged 25 of my posts in 2022

#poetry - 22 posts

#loveforwords - 21 posts

#poets on tumblr - 21 posts

#chaos.and.clutter - 21 posts

#poems on tumblr - 21 posts

#quotes - 21 posts

#literature - 21 posts

#books - 20 posts

#musings - 20 posts

#fiction - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 27 characters

#my head is about to explode

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I read that Grief is a derived word

A word that stemmed from the Latin word gravis.

Gravis - Heavy.

A weight that we've to carry on our own

Because there's only I in Grief.

Most often there are no exit wounds.

It tears your skin and lodges within.

Sometimes we learn to live with it.

Sometimes we have to cut ourselves open and let it out.

And when there are exit wounds,

You've to be courageous enough to let it pass through you.

Tear open your skin twice.

There's no Us in Grief.

I can only sit next to you and hold your hand

While you're hurting.

Hoping you'll pull through.

And then help you stitch your exit wounds.

11 notes - Posted July 31, 2022

#4

recently came across The Beatrice Letters by Lemony Snicket which screams love in every possible way. So I had to make my own version of it. Dramatically speaking: An homage if I may.

The Beatrice Letters: Unsent

I will love you if this is the last time I get to tell you, and I will love you if this is the only time I get to tell you that I do. I will love you as an empress loves her emperor, and as the emperor loves his subjects, and as his subjects love their empire. I love you as a moth loves flame and as flame loves metal. I love you as a warrior loves her sword and as the sword loves to draw blood. I will wait for you as Olaf waits for summer and as a pied cuckoo waits for rain. I will love you if our forever starts today, I will love you if our forever ends today, and I will love you if we never even stood a chance.

I love you as the sun loves the sea and as the sea loves the salt. I will love you as long as it takes to separate the salt from the sea and the salt from my tears. I love you as Shakespeare loves tragedy, and as tragedy follows every hero, and as the hero slowly starts to fall in love with the villain. I will learn to say I love you in every existing language, and then I will learn to speak your love language. I will love you as the poets love the moon and as the moon loves to chase a car. I will love you when you think the world of someone else, I will love you as that world falls apart, and I will love you as my world falls apart. I will love you when my world is full of light, and I will love you from the shadows of my mind.

16 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

#3

Doesn't a word look weird when we stare at it long enough? Doesn't the alphabet look slightly meaningless when we write it over and over again? Here's one: CLING C-LING, C-L-ING, C-L-I-NG, C-L-I-N-G. Does this make sense? It doesn't sound like a word the more you say it. It doesn't look like a word the more you write it. The curves and strokes, dots and dash!

Isn't it how the name of the people you love changes? At some point, it stops being a name, a word that belongs to them. It becomes a feeling that belongs to you. It stops sounding like a word or a random string of letters. It becomes a string of feelings you cling to when life falls apart. Their name on your phone screen stops looking like a word. Every notification and phone call conjures an image of them looking at you and smiling before you can even look at it twice. That particular string of curves and strokes, dots and dash Once belonged to them and is now beloved by you Which you randomly write in the air because it gives you comfort.

Sometimes we take names for granted without realizing the power it holds. When all it takes is that one word to appear on your screen to get you through another tiring day.

23 notes - Posted August 15, 2022

#2

CROWDED TRAIN RIDES

We save the most intense conversations

For the crowded train rides back home.

Not the same home. Not now. Not ever.

We stand in between the bustling crowd,

Look out the window and avoid each other's eyes

You hum under your breath, and I pretend I didn't hear it

We talk about the day in moments.

Ones that made us laugh, ones that felt grateful,

And then about the ones we didn't think the other would notice.

That brings a smile to your face,

So I crack open my otherwise dark heart just a little.

To let that light inside. You smile again, and I break again.

I tell you things I wouldn't tell you when we're alone

In the silence of an empty road where you can hear my voice break

So I find comfort in the crowd muffling out my pain.

The train stops, and you forget it's time.

It's time for you to get down, that it's time for us to reset.

We hug, you get down, and I watch you walk away.

One of these days will be our final train ride like this

Where we talk about us.

And we'll get down, go home. Not the same. Not ever.

But maybe one that's just as loved.

39 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The Beatrice Letters by Lemony Snicket

42 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

(hears a song lyric) this would make a great all-lower case fanfiction title

I Never Could

With a shy smile and a dusty guitar

You sing me a song about rainy afternoons

You close your eyes and get lost in the lines

Leaving me envious

Of the words that left your lips

And those strings under your fingertips

I want to reach out, hold your hand

Instead, I hold myself back

Try not to break the spell

But you pull me close, hold me tight

Between now and then, I give up the fright.

It's not a fireworks-and-butterflies kiss.

Instead, it feels more like a sea breeze

And coming home

I peek a glance to see that your eyes

Are closed the way you do when you sing your lines.

Your arms wrap me from behind,

Your head on my shoulder, breath on my neck.

You hum a song

That we claimed as ours, like a wind in my ears.

This time around, it's your guitar that's left envious.

I kiss your freckles, scars, and moles.

And wonder how the songs could leave your lips

Because I never could.