The box.

Anger
Lust
Sorrow
Disgust

Castaway.
In a box
Full of your memories.

In the deep recesses
Of the attic,
They lie with the sundries.

Inexplicable.
Then why do I feel
So emotionally insane?

If I throw away
The little boxes,
Will the memories remain?

*pokes Summer 2010 where it hurts the most*

Dear Summer 2010,

At first I couldn't wait for you to get here.
College drama was overwhelming.
I was in dire need of a sabbatical.
To cut myself from the all the people who meant nothing at all to me, but affected me anyway.
I wanted to drown myself in work so much so that the World I left behind was a distant memory.

Right now, I'm thinking about how I can't wait to get back to the normalcy of life.
May be that will be my sabbatical from this sabbatical gone wrong.
I need to wake up late.
Take an hour to get ready.
Shower 54 different colours on me.
Go sit on the second last bench against the wall.
Daydream with my eyes wide open.
Laugh like an ass at nothing at all.
Grumble about stale KC food.
Have showdowns over the lamest projects.
Bitch endless with A-a-sha.
Go shopping five times a week.
Make Firangi Paani plans that never materialise.
Aaaah!

And did I mention I need another sabbatical to cleanse my muddled up head of the boy drama thats happening.
Girl meets boy.
Boy disappears.
Girl meets boy.
Then he disappears.
Girl meets boys.
And then he dissapears AGAIN.
Girl meets boy.
She should knife poke him all over until he bleeds, scoop his eyes out, step on his hairy humungous feet and then pull all his hair out of his scalp.
But all she does is think about is how she wants to meet him again, lest he disappears.
I must stop living on a staple diet of movies like Love Aaj Kal and A Lot like Love.
NOW!


Until sample sales continue to make happy!

K-ay <3

I remembered to forget the end.

The words unwritten

The words unsaid

The incomplete conversations

They come back in my head

And I find myself yearning

For the familiarity of that smoky smell

Craving for the touch

That can take me to heaven and to hell

And then the treacherous lies

Comes back to me

I see the end of the road

Through a hazy smokescreen

I fumble to collect the pieces

As they fall apart in front of me

May be I can’t remember the end

Because it wasn’t meant to be