Post Celebration Aftershocks
He breathes his life into me… a small breath, that takes mine away. Breath. The sweet mint in his mouth, making me lose the aftertaste of the cheap last-of-the-salary Cigarette. He does it conciously knowing that my world is going to spin right out of its orbit and merge into his. No he doesn’t love me. He has made that amply clear. But this passionate optimism that I hold close to my heart. The fierce distrust and the nausea with which I regard him as the only man for me.
It does not go away. The nightmare that decided to fill the nights that are now devoid of him. As I puke my brains down the toilet, he jeers in some corner of this demented heart. Torturing and smiling at the ghastly collision of mind and heart. As I forget my way along this path, disillusioned once again, he weaves his magic web of unending pain and adultry. He smiles. Not because he can. But because he has. He has done it again. Made me weak in my knees. Got me crawling again. With more tears in my eyes than there are drops in an ocean…. Oh if this is suicide… It was always the only thing for me…
- Neha
baba says:
October 26th, 2006 at 12:49 am
Drunken Diva says:
I absolutely LOVE this line.. “the cheap last-of-the-salary Cigarette”. Always, at the end of the month, I find myself switching to cheaper and cheaper brands
November 2nd, 2006 at 11:47 am