Dustypagesblog - Words Can Change Worlds

Her coming was my hope each day,

Her parting was my pain;

The chance that did her steps delay

Was ice in every vein.

–Song sung by Mr. Rochester

I'm reading with my sister

A book about a boy almost

As good as the brother we

Both used to have & I know

I am only a pale placeholder

An eyelash in the blink of loss

But we paint the pain with

Love grown thick—

We know the agony of a

Phantom limb waving

Beyond the stars, a

Canopy flutters

A rusty almirah may hold

no importance to any,

But it was his favourite.

It belonged to his inamorata.

It stood in the corner

Beside his bed, governing.

The magenta colour blazing

in the dimly lit, dusty room.

Every saree in the almirah,

a colourful page of their life.

He'd run his fingers through

the soft material, gratified.

In his days of strength

He complained, repeatedly

When she stood in front of

The almirah deciding on her attire.

The stickers had decided to

stay longer on the skin of it,

Some scraped and some attached

Each telling about a trend then.

In his claustrophobic life,

The almirah stored contentment.

The key to it too; held a sweet

Monochrome picture of his wife.

He'd sometimes stand still in front

Of the mirror of the almirah

looking deep within as if

He could meet her eyes through.

The rusted handle cold,

much like when he last

held her hand tight with

no absolute warmth or pulse.

Now grey with weakness,

He only wishes the almirah

To stay by his side, making

up for his late wife's presence.

-Umme Ayman.

Dreams so vivid, they blend with our realities.

Solivagant

My mind keeps running back to it, no matter how much I distract myself, the thought never leaves me alone, like it's embedded in my brain, isolating itself pushing away any rational thoughts that try to erase it. Centralizing thoughts was never my thing but never once did an idea dawn me to this extent. It seemed like a age old rule tempting me to break it. My conscious running on the commands of it may be for the best. The idea of suicide creeped inside of me three weeks ago. A pleasant day without any banter, peace coursing through the house but settling with heavy grief as I knotted my black tie around my neck, Nahyun had left a message about his grandmother's death and as his friend I needed to be by his side. I was though a little worried about his lack of grief towards the news of death, his grandmother was always the brightest light in his well lit life.

The atmosphere in the venue reflected Nahyun's feelings and response. I tried, tried my best to coax him into showing his emotions, letting out the raw frustration he was masking behind the straight and pale face but when he answered saying, 'I think everything is fine now, she doesn't have to deal with any more pain. Sometimes death is the solution', I believed him.

Maybe it isn't that bad of an idea if I can't get it out of my head, I mean what more pain can a person suffer after death? No one knows what lies beyond but one does know what's going on now and it's better to seek solace in trying to find an end to the ongoing misery. If Nahyun's grandmother is in a better place, so will I.

Though rather, hers wasn't a decision, but an expected yet unwilling turn of page to where she needed to leave the book behind. It's for the good.

______

But throwing away everything just to get rid of pain..? Is it worth for all I've lived?

Every question was blurred by the previous decision, I mean what choice do I have left, living amongst those who judge me for my preferences, abandonment throughout life, Scrunching nose with look of disgust when they ask me about myself and the hauntings of failures and heartbreaks.

Now, four weeks later here I am, a bottle of pills clutched in my left palm and the right hand resting on the edge of the bathtub, the silent room filled with loud clattering of my teeth. This is it. I didn't care with the goodbyes, didn't wanna be distracted with hollow words of hope.

Assumptions and accusations will be made but I won't be part of it, just the reason for it. They'll have me locked up one last time in their worries.

This is for the best. This- has to be for the best. But.. I'll be gone, forever. I'm scared but I have to do this, I'm useless.

.

(A/: I was currently working on this, so decided to post. Please show some love)