Conspicuous GIRL

Don't call me a ridicule.

"To that tune, I never heard- I prepared

lines of moans at nights ,as they speared"

I know love isn't everything in life, yet I know that it can alter lives . To fall in love, shut down for a man, lose oneself again and again are all foolishness. I didn't know when I stood at the ledge. I was once tested of my potential. Love with a man who, when desired to leave you, will leave after teaching about destroying self respect, getting to cope even after ego, about wanting to gulp those bad words and utter, "baby, I love you", asking sorry for his mistakes, adjusting with and trusting on someone who gave fake or no promises.

"One day, I'll be blamed of my mistakes. I'd be proclaimed to be weak, despair, a desperate woman. I'll be missing out all my grace, waiting for his messages. I'll be in the most unavoidable disappointments, I might think him to be the solutions for all problems amidst knowing that he is one heck of problem itself.

I'll declare him as a betrayer, cheapskate, moron and will convince myself. I might cry secretly inside, guilty of what?, I wouldn't know.", definitely, most definitely I knew of all these before, yet I use to trust in fairy tales.

I know all that men aren't same. Those pretty good dialogues, I'm very well aware of. In the skill of ability to abandon something, all of a sudden, we once called love, I wasn't good enough. A good man's policy, I owe him an appreciation for always. The way I trained my psychology to trust him that I declare that I'm done and simultaneously ask me to hope for another miracle to happen, made me stay in an unsteady equilibrium. At the end of the day hopes, mishaps both cancel out each other and that's how my patience die.

Even though those last days were a limited edition, convolution of thoughts, I produce will compound remaking all new episodes. Those last words like, "we can't even be friends","You aren't any part in my life", will add scars , will determinedly sit with the soul forever.

Painting ugly shades of happiness, anger to eyes, then see them transform into tears and fall down, this is how I'm weaker.

If a friend blushes, portraying her love story,

If a male friend personifies her girlfriend to be an angel, what else can take me everywhere to those thoughts than these? On that if I ask myself of where it went wrong?, why it didn't happen between us? He never heard them, my roar inside will never reach. Maybe because he went too far away. I don't envy on him to keep strong to brush off things just like that. I don't because, I know I don't and that is for good. I don't numb speak philosophies of immortal love, divine love, sacrificial love and damn truths. I'm a no liar. I don't speak of them because I never had them. Anyways it isn't interesting anymore.

It's like a story unsaid, a discreet maintained, word struck interim situations, experience that isn't worth having. A wound seeking medicine and a medicine seeking wound, both together. I know life isn't easy. To bypass this isn't easy either.

I told myself that I forgot him. After all I'm still counting my attempts. I now tell me of nothing, left it all undisturbed.

I don't care for me for that distress. Who will want it another time? The essence is no longer sweet, the weather is no longer cold. For every time I do a mistake, I was advised, DO NOT REPEAT.

Residue after filtration, after shocks after quakes, traces of coffee in glass,

shall rust in rest of years.

This girl does remind her of those grey old days and doesn't forget to moan. Her heart knows her of him very well. It's forever unclear whether that is still love or revising up of hatred.

The tunes which were never heard embodied in her nights. However she stitched her heart and completed her sleep.