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Runners not quitters


Photo courtesy: AJEL/Pixabay

Why did you stop writing, he asked. Because love, sometimes even the pen becomes tired of us. And we have to run away so we can miss it enough to forgive its inadequacies, just like you and me, I said.

But what if you never come back, he asked. Because we are runners love, not quitters, I said.


Let’s Play Pretend 005

Let’s all just play pretend

Wait, we are too good at this

Tell that to all the lovers we’ve met

Others we’ve ignored when they were not looking

Those with the perfect image,

unblemished even after past lives but still we filtered them

Looking for damages in places there were none


But aren’t we really the damaged ones?

Edging through the door, piece by piece

Slipping to the other side before they knew we were gone

We just wanna speed away and leave no trail

If only we could tip the scale,

make us lighter, less scared to want things


There is not really much out there anyway

Hey ye of little faith, have you never made a wish to the wind?

Wait a minute, is that a trick question?

No one said anything about going in deep

Let’s keep it simple, let’s play pretend.


Let’s Play Pretend 004

Let’s pretend that we’ve mastered the art of conversation

That’s nothing is really lost in the ones that end too soon

Or the ones that change course mid-sentence

Let’s pretend that we care deeply about the smiles in the crowd

Those are the easiest to cheat, no time to linger

Please don’t judge

We are merely moving on to the next best thing

Let’s Play Pretend 003

Let’s pretend that we didn’t start running to give ourselves a headstart

That we both waited long enough to bolt out

And there was the grace period before we pushed the clock forward into the future

Where even the heart with the best intention has a mind of its own

Hey, I know from somewhere. Have we met before?

The hard swallow as we dust away our memories

There are no ghosts left in my corner

No, you must have me confused with someone else

Let’s Play Pretend 002


photo courtesy of

Let’s pretend that we were all pure when we first met

Those days we fed each other only parts we loved

Putting the price of gold in even the tinniest things

Like the touch of a hand

Such hands are evasive

Such hands know more than they are telling

But they are really useless if they can’t send us to places we’ve never been

Like thriving in the underbelly of a heart

Where it is easy to reach in and squeeze out the air

Is that what you mean when you say you are out of breath?

Let’s play pretend 001

What’s that they always say, make peace with the mirror and smile?

But who’s that on the other side?

Come out, let’s play pretend

Let’s pretend that all liars first met in the streets

and they followed each other home

And behind closed doors, they schemed how to trick us all

Let’s pretend that it’s never really a lie

until you learn to choose the right side



Listen to your words

The danger of being a poet,

You are always trying to find the beauty in other people’s words

But where is the rhythm?

Where are the pauses?

Breathe slow, catch your breath

Oh honey, listen to your words

Where is the magic?

Inside your head

courtesy of

courtesy of

Stop it. Tap out. Speeding in the wrong lane, breathing slow is for the weak. Why do you run away when someone still needs you? Why do you go to that place inside your head?

Sometimes you live life backwards, picking up the mistakes you left behind. But such things take you under, chasing life in all the wrong places. They talk and you talk, but no one is really listening.

A kiss is meant to linger but no one is really feeling it when you go home with the wrong people. You went in empty-handed, came out full of emptiness.

Do they see you like you see them? Do they forget you when they leave? Do they hold you when you are sad?

You could leave if you want to but you’ve glued your wings together.

You’ve changed your smile. Why are you so scared of the mirror. The mask fits better when you keep it on. It’s the lies like this that stole from you. Pay attention, it’s all in your head.

Living inside your head, in a dream. It’s a lonely place where you hide. You went away and forgot to come back.

Life can get beautiful in thin air but what’s gonna save you from being invisible.

Get out of your head. Be more out there. Where is out there?

It’s a lost cause when you are really not fighting. You can’t see in the dark when no one is really leading you.

Sometimes feeling inadequate. Getting some, needing more. Why so lost love? Where do you go in the night?

Like D.H Lawrence, I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself but there you are hugging your loneliness. Who’s gonna hold you against the cold?

Someone needs to tell you that the truth doesn’t start where the bottle ends. But phone calls will end when the heart becomes cold. You could feel if you tried but you’ve built a wall. Then you slip back inside your head and fasten the latch.

The complex of a writer

It is dangerous being a writer, you are in a constant tug of war with your thoughts. Who do you kill? Who survives till the end? Who is less important? Who do you love more? Who should fall in love with who? Is it time to end the story yet, or do you flip on to the next chapter? Is it love they feel or are they just disillusioned?

Your characters are no longer just characters, they are people with feelings. They make demands that have to be met, somehow satisfied like a young lover’s night. Sometimes, you let your guard down and give in to these demands.

But sometimes you are stubborn, and you starve a love that is meant to be. You shred all the tenderness into pieces. You crawl into a pure heart, stain it with blood. And when you are done with red, you sneak in specks of black and smear it around. Till she’s gone. In the vanity of your ink, she’s forgotten. And he now holds a lover in each arm.

She’s pushed into a corner, but still she kisses the dagger that twists into her heart. You can see her eyes glow in flames but you ignore her. Did you not learn the rules? Where is our happy ending? Where is the teasing, the caresses, the kisses? What have you done to us?

Screw the rules, humans are better with flaws. They can survive on the edges of thorns. Rules are stifling. Rebels were born among us. To steer us off course. To cheat us, raise enemies inside a lover’s den.

Sometimes, you are conflicted. You sit love in the same table, then serve silence with forks and knives. You lay them on the same bed, then turn each one into a void that cannot be hugged. Spooning is better at 3 am but you snatched that as well.

She’s never been good at cold wars. She keeps her tears in a bottle. But he’s got a bottle of his own. He throws himself in it every night.

Grasping at straws, there is nothing for us to cling on here. We know how this story ends. We’ve been here before. Nothing to hope for. We’ve learnt to lick the remnants from the honey jar.

But sometimes you are weak, you crack under pressure. Maybe it’s redemption or maybe you are just bored with the old story. And in that moment, you jerk us all into a U-turn.

She walks into a room, clutching her heart in her hands. There is something desperate in the way she scans the room, her eyes bouncing from shadow to shadow. The crowd has grown bigger these days. Or maybe he just good at hiding in plain sight.

Suddenly, their eyes meet, a moment of reawakening. A reunion. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for, our happy ending. He’s there waiting, he’s always been there. She’s the one, she’s always been the one.

But who said cheating isn’t permitted. Confusion is a thing of beauty, surprise endings and twists. Come out, let’s play.

Maybe it isn’t him, maybe she’s moved on to a new love.

Or maybe it’s not them. Maybe this is a new love story with new characters altogether because sometimes, you are vague. Focus people, focus.

I’m a terrible lover

photo courtesy of

photo courtesy of

Stepping on toes,

Looking over my shoulders,

I am here for a while,

Then I go back to the arms I once knew,

But I crawl back to the heart that feeds on me,

I manipulate the heart that needs me,

Taking too much, giving too little

Or giving nothing at all,

Expecting to find kisses floating in the air

I’m a terrible lover,

Throwing love in the dust,

But I’m a lover in training.

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