"It is especially cold this year, don't you think?"
December came with chilly winds and a crashing realisation that yet another chapter of life was coming to an end. This is the month of the finale; the chapter which is both the epilogue and the prologue. The ending and the beginning. It is both exciting and dreadful in a way I might never be able to explain. But I believe that there are people out there who would still understand. They would understand because they feel it too. Because somewhere deep, there is a void inside our hearts that we cannot seem to fulfil.
"You mean just like your heart?"
I visit the park where it all started, the writings, the trauma, everything. I sit down on the moist grass and look beside me. Throughout the year, this spot was occupied by a lot of people. Right now it is as empty as the first day I came here. I look up at the sky and sigh. In the distance I see a happy couple with their new born in hand. The wife's head falls back in glee as she laughs at a joke her husband made. The man looks at his wife like she's his entire universe and he, for the life of him, cannot seem to look away. Somewhere far away, the birds sing, and I tear my own eyes away from them.
"Unlike popular belief, my heart isn't cold. It's just ....not there. There is a hole where my heart used to be."
Love, as many people say, is the most beautiful feeling in the world. I think it is not. Atleast not for me. To love is to be vulnerable. To love is to believe. To love is to show your all your weaknesses and insecurities to one person and trust them to not use those against you. To love is to hope. And shattered hope leaves a person broken beyond repair. I was that person once, I think I still might be. And so, having a heart which is dead cold is better than having a beating bleeding one.
"What happened to you?"
Some people would disagree. To them, love is as beautiful as a meadow of tulips. Colourful, cheerfull and happy. But that is only because they have never experienced the pain of not being loved back. Some of us are always the shoulder for someone to lean on, but when we need a shoulder, the world is suddenly empty; void of any humans. I believe love to be like a rose; soft petals combined with a thorny stem. Eventhough I had only ever experienced the thorns, my faith in love was so much that I still tried to pick up the rose with my bleeding fingers only to get pricked by them again. To me, to love is to bleed.
"I used to be a person once. Now I'm just an empty shell."
Love left me earlier this year. But her essence lingered long enough to keep me under the delusion that I could love again. It was all messy inside; the head, the heart. I was a fool who paid the price for the sins she committed, by having her worst fear come true. A sudden loud thunder shakes me out of my thoughts. Rain in winter is a recipe for disaster. People in the park start gathering their things hurriedly in order to get home before the inevitable downpour. Admist the chaos prevailing in the park, a sudden calmness fills my mind. I look up at the sky and a wet drop falls on my face, right below the eye. That is the only warning before the heavy rain starts. Long after the park has emptied out and the rain is pouring down in all its might, I touch my cheek only to be met with wetness and somehow, it becomes arduous for me to figure out where the rain ends and where my tears begin.
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Kalopsia : A Collection Of Short Poems And Vignettes
Poetry"Sometimes you think you want to disappear but all you really want is to be found." it's just a collection of poem-ish pieces (idrk what to call them lol) about love, heartbreak and all kinds of emotions ig and some short vignettes. I basically jus...
