The Beauty of Grey.

“Who will save me?!”
Sang, that simple wailing banshee.
“Its times like these...”
she continued strumming her fingers.

As I watch, silently following every twitch.
I listen, learning to live again.
As I feel, the rush of emotion within.
I sing, accompanying the crescendo...

She looks and with a glint beckons,
I think she knows what it’s like to be us
To be the one that gives over and beyond.
I see her soul and it’s grey, it is mine all wrapped in one.

We take over now, together and apart.
I don’t think I belong here.
She doesn’t seem to care for that part.
And, for once I do not fear.

As she gets up in a trance by the fire of our making,
I let them be. I let it flow all within and let myself be.
As we merge, extinguishing all form and boundaries.
Our cursed gift becomes a gifted curse.

There are no possessions in this life of ours.
There is no ownership in this relationship of ours.
There is no hatred in this world of ours.
And, there will definitely be no defeat in this game of ours.

As I’ve stumbled along while I came to terms,
She takes my breath, this banshee.
She’s not pretty. She’s not even literate.
But I think she is wise, wise beyond compare.

‘The Beauty of Grey is’ she says, ‘we are what everyone needs’.
‘The Cost of Grey is’ she reprimands, ‘we are always ugly’.

Chemistry

What happens when it’s not the chemistry that is to blame? 

What if, it’s just a case of bad timing? 

Maybe all that needs to be said is ‘Maybe, some other day?’. That’s what I think sometimes.

All you need is a dance party. Not a forced one with the baying for blood, guts and all the other gory muck that comes with it but, just a pure unadulterated dance party. Where, the music takes higher precedence than the ‘groovy’ steps or the ‘slick’ clothes or the ‘who’s with who’ banality. That’s what I think at least.

Maybe it’s never the chemistry that was to blame. Maybe it’s just the wrong hour of the wrong day. Chemistry never goes away. It’s always there come heaven, hell or high water. I feel it. I felt it then and I think I will always feel it.

All you need is a dance party and I will dance with my eyes closed and my mouth contorted into a wide grin. Take away this pain, take away the tiredness and take away all my doubts.

Today, this very moment, I want to be free. Free of it all.

After all it's never the chemistry. You either have it or you don't. But, you never lose it mid-way...

The Step.

Fear.

The Fear of losing. The Fear of loving. The absence of determination in the face of adversity. The presence of a road-block on the path to normalcy. It never fails to rear it's ugly head along with its twin sisters, insecurity and panic. The Fear of disappearing. Within the realms of ones surroundings as it engulfs the very existence of this being.

Never fails. An ever-present hand on your shoulder. Like a hunger pang that gnaws within yet prevents you from satiating it. Never disappoints. This Fear within.

These were the words that raced through her as she sat on that wooden chair facing her bed as she stared out the tiny window from the corner of her eye. It had been a good one hour since the hot shower was over. The one that was supposed to imbibe the determination or at the very least the false dawn of determination. Yet, here she sat, still. On her chair, half-numb and completely naked from the outside but even more stark from within. A shroud of numbness had descended over the being. She knew she needed something and to an extent even knew how and where to get it but just couldn't build the urge to get it. Terrible thing this.

So she does what she does best, and that is to dream with eyes wide open. Does not realize that the bell has been ringing for the last 15 minutes. Does not care. The washed clothes need to be hung yet they lie in a damp squib inside the washer. The weather is bleak but the promise is bright. It is ripe for the picking only no one seems to want it so much.

Does wanting something more than anything scare her from taking it. Or, maybe it is just living in the past. Maybe, it is time to leave all of it behind. She had friends who lived in the past, some in the present and a few in the future. But there were also many who didn't live at all for fear or hope of a better possibility. It was easy to over-see all this from purgatory. The worst of both worlds and yet perfect for a voyeur. Just perfect.

A simple step, that's all it takes - she said in her head. Let's take the first step and worry about what comes next later.. One Step. That's all it needs. One Step.