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  • miranah 13w

    something that ugly rants look like.

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    I don't quite know
    how to mourn the loss
    of someone
    who is not dead.
    I've tried to be
    a little less afraid
    each time a little something
    makes me jump out of my chair,
    and all i can think of
    is screaming my lungs out to you
    with every ounce of joy in me,
    only to tremble seconds later,
    at my feeble reality.
    I remember how I'd taken
    to babbling once,
    out of the countless times
    I've wanted to
    just talk.
    because you deprived me
    of not just your presence
    but also consumed me whole
    each time you hung me out to dry.

    The last time I couldn't breathe
    i wished for my chest to feel free
    from everything it's buried under,
    and that's when it shook me
    to realise that
    I've been dragging
    remnants of a decayed connection
    alongside me.
    I'm covered in
    cold sweat,
    my breath reeks of
    each suffering
    I wish I'd endured less.
    But then, i wouldn't be talking
    with no pauses.
    The last time I spoke endlessly,
    I think i almost
    convinced myself that
    this time you're here to listen;
    to hold a hand;
    to shed a tear;
    because i remember
    that i kept asking
    for paints
    of all colours,
    but mostly those
    that would stain
    that wouldn't fade away,
    i remember wanting to leave a mark,
    to bleed my heart out,
    even if it meant
    speaking in scribbles,
    and I remember,
    how it ended with me
    falling unconscious
    and it not being spoken of,
    not the next morning,
    nor any other.

    Sometimes i recall
    your promises
    your reassuring gestures,
    but mostly your eyes,
    that could calm
    even the most raging of fires
    within my chest.
    And day upon day,
    I see you mostly in rectangles,
    and although my love language
    is not really touch,
    yours is;
    and so,
    i am still willing to give it my all
    if only
    you could give me
    a little of you,
    and not expect me
    to survive on little bits
    of you.
    If only you could,
    then i wouldn't be talking
    in pieces,
    in bits,
    trying to breathe
    so I don't choke,
    trying to talk,
    and so i don't cry,
    trying to run through
    the pile of
    stuck behind my tongue.


  • miranah 50w

    you know i'm lying there,
    because i'm screaming,
    screaming with all that i've got,
    but you don't know better,
    because you cover my mouth
    and hush me with why i mustn't be wailing,
    and if you knew better,
    i know i'd be wrapped in a sheet,
    with my shivering hands in hands full of warmth,
    and would be looking at eyes
    that are way hurt than i am, for causing me grief.

    and while i look at you, for what you could be
    and not what you are,
    i blink back to fall into a dark pit,
    one that takes me through a few moments in time.
    the first i see, is a sight that has me laughing uncontrollably
    to the point that i can't see anyone else around,
    although it's the peak hour,
    and the ground is full of half-exhausted people.
    it kills me to realise that when you're with me,
    my gaze refuses to leave sight of you.
    the following night, i think if i'm all you think about,
    when you're smiling to yourself.

    unable to stand the hurt i've caused myself,
    i blink away to recall another memory.
    this one's from back then, when i knew
    that my heart hasn't ever raced like this,
    upon seeing anyone else across my gate
    in all the years i've grown up to be a woman.
    i knew it wouldn't last a second,
    i knew that a single glance at each other,
    is all we would get, and yet that day taught me
    that there's nothing purer than shy love,
    one in which there's timidity and love, all the same,
    more than regret, of not being able to cross the gate and hold hands.

    i know i shouldn't have come here,
    my eyes have begun to swell,
    although they aren't tired
    of watching me break my own heart for you, over and again.
    nevertheless, you know, i was panting that day,
    it was as if my heart was in my mouth,
    i had to beat time, weather and my mum's radar
    but i knew that showing up unexpectedly,
    just to see your expressionless face,
    i was well aware that i would get no reaction,
    but i knew it would be all worth it,
    even if it didn't last for any longer than a handful of minutes.
    now, when i look back, i know what i didn't see,
    i know what i turned a blind eye to.

    i think i know why it's all coming back to me,
    i think i know why i feel like a volcano,
    that has been erupting yet has the lava trapped within.
    i guess it doesn't ever get over in a jiffy,
    and nobody ever gets accustomed to it.
    perhaps we wait, we wait for it to get big,
    and bigger and we wait for a strike, to let it all out.
    i remember the feeling that came along with loving you,
    it was like living life on the edge,
    on the edge of a rope that i knew would break.
    i didn't know you to be the man you've become,
    i didn't know you to be the one to be still,
    while you've turned another's world upside down.

    i knew your world was different from that of mine,
    but i thought i was ready to give up mine,
    to live in yours, and i did just that.
    but, guess who decided to show me
    that my love was too sweet,
    and my tears too many.
    i fell too hard, and hit all my senses at once
    but i thought you'd care,
    i thought you'd sigh, thought you'd wail.
    fire in my veins, fire in my heart,
    a storm you can't stop,
    madness you can't tame,
    never imagined to say this, but
    you'll never see me cry,
    you'll never see me cry.



    @surefire hi, mate.

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  • miranah 61w

    You know, there's a song in my playlist, that's stayed there for years now. It's the song I skip all the time, and tell myself - not today, just not today.
    My thumb hovers over the play button as my mind whispers "Don't go there, not again", I clutch my fist in dismay and lay back on the pillow.

    A few white threads on the sheet take me back to a distant memory. "Why won't you look me in the eye, hey, are you blushing? Your cheeks look flushed!" "I'm certainly far from blu-- " I burst into giggles. "Stop playing with those threads, look at me, will you?" "I'm going to close my eyes and play a song, lie down with me, and listen, and maybe, just maybe, I'd look into your eyes."

    My phone vibrated on my palm and I suddenly sat up to realise that my face had gone warm from a couple of tears sliding down my cheek. I wiped them with my hand, without paying much heed to the all the itch on my arm from all that silver I run on it.

    I lay back and repeat your words in my mind, whilst I absent mindedly scratch my arm. Of all that was said and done, my mind would usually go back to why you caused the damage you did. But today, I wanted you to overburden me with all that you could.

    You remind me of that song, because you make me feel the need to walk past you and look past you. You make me feel weak in the bones. My heart has never felt more compelled than what you make it feel for forcing my body to zone out, lest I hear you.

    I am cursed with a heart like this, so I'll look away in silence,
    whilst I pretend that my heart is not heavy and my cup is not full.



    sometimes, you should ignore me just fine.

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  • miranah 63w

    It wasn't too late that evening, when I rushed past dogs barking under a full moon sky. I knew my new hair tie was not of the right size, and the wind, somehow, insisted on proving it. Not that I like mumbling and cursing under my nose, but the weather catching me off guard, every single time, gets it out of me.

    I only kept thinking how sadistic it was of the entire universe conspiring to continuously sprinkle dust into my eyes, whilst obviously turning a blind eye to my henna clad hands.
    Blinking more than I ever have, was my only refuge. I blinked until it got hazy and I could no longer see. I, so wish it would have stayed that way, for longer.

    Before I could blink another time, my eyes froze at familiarity.
    I do not remember feeling a moment last for longer than what it does, until one sight changed it all. My stomach churned at the mere sight of your presence, and I felt my beat palpitating after what seems like years, but my eyes, I would still blame the wind in my eyes for making me tear from refusing to blink.

    If that glimpse was perhaps, a puzzle consisting of a hundred thousand pieces, I would still be able to piece your brows, every inch of your beard and all of your fingers holding the phone, together without needing to look back again. Our shoulders haven't rubbed past each other in seventy months, yet, the air everywhere, but around you, wrapped itself in bokeh and turned to haze.

    It is as if I could hear the universe whisper defeat in my ears,
    and maybe it did, afterall show me why we haven't crossed paths in so long. This heart of mine, is full of fear and hope all the same, igniting a flame in the name of awaiting love that has never been promised in my name and extinguishing it with pails of pain.

    Now that the only prayer, I've been chanting on my lips, has been moulded to fit into nine seconds of reality, I realise that, a soul that tirelessly tends to shattered pieces of broken love, asking for it to be sewn up again, a prayer like that, when granted, the consequences of it, the heart will not for a moment, be able to bear.



    Picture courtesy: Pinterest

    @writersnetwork hi, buddy

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  • miranah 65w

    thoughts, really are a bane.

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    Not until I've reached
    a cave dark and gaping in my sleep
    am I able to catch glimpses of faces
    that I once held too tight,
    and in stillness, watched me weep.

    Often, my feet trace themselves
    in wakefulness and slumber all the same,
    my toes tip toe the same trail,
    the one that reeks of an unfinished story,
    what I thought were ashes, is indeed yet a dying flame.

    There is something that grips me
    in all the red I see
    It gets my heart to slow down every beat
    whilst it fondly turns in the same tape,
    from that day when you saw me flee.

    I wonder if I ever sat down and thought
    that there are faces innumerable
    and stories too many
    then why must I pay a price so heavy
    only to look back, when you never paid a penny.


  • miranah 66w

    Amongst a couple of places, I call home,
    Sleep will never be one.
    And why I would I house in my mind like that,
    when I know what it brings me,
    before there's a blue sky and a sun.

    Of all the places I've ever been in,
    nothing haunts me more than my own mind.
    When all I long for is a breath
    that doesn't clench my stomach,
    Tell me why is it that fear is all I find.

    I've steered away nights like these,
    that have whispered stories in my ears.
    But now that I'm caught off guard,
    there isn't a single being,
    that could comfort my worried heart and its tears.


  • miranah 67w

    Aren't they all the same, just like one another?
    They gave up on me,
    and although I did yearn to be heard, seen and felt,
    I'm glad they paid no heed.

    Oh no no, don't come back with your tales and sighs.
    Keep them to yourself and for the ones who love illusions and lies.
    I'm not the person you saw last, in that one glance before you decided to never turn back,
    because all the love I overpoured for you, is now everything that I lack.

    If I ever listened to the haters,
    I'd know you're a sweet talker, hell.
    Talked your way through my heart,
    and kept ripping me apart until I fell.

    And in the end, we'll all give up on one another,
    but what will matter is how we did.
    If the fight took your breath away
    or if you were too scared that it will.


  • miranah 67w

    I looked into the mirror today
    to mourn my shattered self.
    Blood, promises and tears,
    had begun to flow,
    forgetting lines and fears.

    I want to run into your arms,
    oh mother of mine.
    Hide me from everyone out there
    for they tear me down,
    so they can each have a share.

    I know not why it chokes you
    when you stuff a pillow into your face
    Someone tell it, that I need to breathe
    I won't take an easy death,
    I'll yell, scream and fight before I'm laid under a sheath.

    Hush hush baby girl,
    girls don't cry out loud.
    Now you know why.
    'cause if the world ever heard you
    it'd call you weak, demanding and sly.


  • miranah 68w

    I watch the sun grow a little older,
    with each passing sunset
    and sense the moon struggle a little harder
    to show up after a no moon night.

    The sun goes down differently than yesterday,
    each sunset hints at me
    that the world is ageing faster than it wants to.
    And on the other hand,
    I feel like I watch the moon fighting against itself
    sense an unending urge.

    For the first time in a long time,
    I feel like I'm growing
    but also that there's so much within me
    that wants to grow up
    but a lot more that doesn't.

    The sun's going down faster than
    the moon's struggling to rise

    I refuse to give pace these rights,
    I refuse to let it take away from me,
    everything in between the death of a moment
    and the time of its rise.


  • miranah 68w

    It is almost always that I'm surrounded with noises.
    I wouldn't say loud noises, but chaotic noises.
    The kind of noises that would hinder your thinking.

    I've begun to pause, amidst these noises.
    All this tremor in my heart makes me think,
    my conscience fights me, day in and day out.

    Believe me when I say I'm at a loss for words,
    to convey how I've been thinking in my sleep,
    And how the voices in my head don't stop for a moment.

    My mind has begun to hamper my bodily movements.
    I can't move when I'm thinking loud.
    I can only pause and try to breathe better.

    In a city full of lights and chaos,
    I broke down whilst in motion, on a road full of traffic,
    Lord knows I tried, I tried not to come past as queer as I must've seemed.

    Perhaps there is strength in enduring,
    and goodness in letting go of everything that you once held tight.

    And perhaps there is courage,
    in quietly dusting your elbows and struggling to pick yourself back up.

    Because the toughest battles of all,
    are often fought alone, with thyself.