Share this:

“Man has the advantage of choice, woman – the power of refusal”
Jane Austen

The One With Whom My Dreams Are Woven

I’ve fallen asleep, have fallen in my dreams, and there, in the very depths of my heart’s desires, I had found him. I haven’t dreamt about his face nor  about the color of his eyes. I dreamt about his soul divine. I fell asleep and I fell in love – now, now I know what to yearn for. I am yet to find him, I am yet to meet him, but I already know him.

Countless times in my life I thought I had fallen in love. With mistakes comes the wisdom and I learned to take the infatuation for what it is – to take it very lightly. One time in my life, I knew I had fallen in love. Completely and utterly, I gave up my control, gave him my all, and I fell. It was a literal fall to the very depths of hell, and the climb back up was ever so slow.

He may just be a dream. Strange is the world that we live in, maybe I frequent his as he visits mine? But he was too far from perfect to be woven only from dreams. And who is perfect nowadays? Imperfections are what we love, and what we miss once the loved ones are gone – imperfections make you real.

He was a beast. He ached inside. Hurt – just enough to fill himself with darkness, but not enough to become the dark himself. And he was so lonely on his path, lonely, yet it was the road he himself had chosen. He embraced the dark, and forged his destiny. He embraced the silence and the misery it brings. Lonely amongst the crowd, silent amongst the noise, he was dark within the daylight. And – he was lost. He wandered aimlessly, knowing where he needed to go but purposefully losing himself along the way. He needed to be found. In all his sorrows, in all his strength, he was weak. He wanted to fight, but he wanted to find a reason to fight for.

I could see it clearly as the August day. And while I dreamt, I knew then and there, that I had fallen in love with his darkness. I fell in love with his silence and all the words in between. His form was human, but there was nothing human about him. A true wounded beast. Waiting for the right one, the same one, broken just as he was, to pick up the pieces. He was so beautifully broken…

We are like mirrors. Woven from the same dreams and hardships. We are beasts, yet we care naught for the furs or cloths wrapping the fragile bodies. We seek the souls behind the shallowness. We seek each other.

True beasts seek no master to command them. True beasts need an equal, the one who would run beside. We wish not to belong to someone, but to belong with. If you cage the beast, you will keep her next to you. But she will bolt as soon as she gets the chance to breathe in the fresh air, feel the grass below her feet. No matter how mesmerizing the cage is, no matter what that cage is made of, it will always be a prison. And all you will have is a prisoner. Whether forged from iron bars, broken promises or woeful lies, it is still a cage.

Belong with the beast, free it, and know that at any given moment, it could leave. But every moment that it stays makes it far more precious. Then you will understand  – you are its choice. Through thick and thin, through dark and light, the beast will loyally be by your side.

Yes, in the hands of a true man, every lioness is a kitten, every beast is a playful pup. But love should not be mistaken for weakness. Do not mistake the undeniable and ever present, overwhelming strength that can be brought forth only by hardships and pain.

Deep in the shadows of my soul something is stirring… Padding slowly down the moonlit path, a creature of nature nurtured by sorrows and tempered in tears like mighty steel looks up to his eyes, full of stars. He is dark but he can still recognize the light. While our form may be human, there is nothing human about us.

So vivid, and so unclear. You are the one with whom my dreams are woven. I belong with you, for you know that nature dwells in my very core, strength runs through my every pore, and my spirit… my spirit cannot be bound. It is my beast within that flares up with your every touch. I am ready to stand before you, in all my imperfections, in all my sins and virtues. If you fall in love with my ashes, you will easily love the arisen phoenix.

Whether a dream, a childish fantasy, or intuition’s play with omens – I believe your soul is out there, and that we will find each other.  With you I will roam through the darkness or I will ravage the world alone. I am ready – to find you, to battle the gods of war for your embrace. I am ready – to weave your soul into mortal flesh, for I cannot just dream of your caress. I am ready – to wait for you in this world or the next.

O

Woodland nymph

 

Take me where the banshees sing,
To the very world end’s end.
Break me free from concrete hell,
Cling of steel, and metal dwells.

Take me far from city lights,
I am blinded by their glow.
I cannot see the starry nights,
cannot run through moonlit groves.

Set me free where meadow’s long.
Where wild horses prance and dance!
Fall in love with ginger locks,
Life hurts less if there’s romance.

Twine thine fingers in my sunkissed hair,
Touch my white skin oh so bare.
Take me where deep river flows,
Let me sink my barefoot toes.

I will be your woodland nymph
Lay me gently upon fallen leaves.
Let screaming thunders snuff the moans,
Weave our breaths in autumn breeze.

I am sick of metal, wilting grass,
Infested branches, ashen stares.
Take me where the jasmine blooms.
Love me under pale moon’s glow.

I will writhe like burning flame,
Never still, never tame.
Silver light turns blushes bright…

I can be your maiden fair,
Sterling Angel, doe-eyed mare,
Or the very Devil’s bride,
Savage, brutal, beast unkind.

If only walls could speak…

Oh, if only the walls could speak… If only they could, since we cannot. But I remember, dear, I remember how you used to touch me and make me writhe under your fingertips. We colored white walls with our happiness and bliss. And they listened, they absorbed everything, they suffered while we reached heavens and beyond. Oh how they mock me now, how sweet is their revenge…

It’s better that they do not speak. I don’t dare to think how cruel and loathsome they would be. But if they could, and if they were honest and true to our passion, they would testify how we danced under the sheets. But we know that. Yet we dare not mention.

We had each other, and our walls, and we hid from the world. We had each other and that was all that mattered. We were sheltered, we were safe. I miss that feeling, I miss the way you made me feel Wanted. Cared. Safe. In our little world, behind or walls, we felt passion, we felt each other. Oh if the walls could speak… I’m forgetting, and yet I will never forget.

In days when there’s only gloom and despair, and I want to huddle the blankets and just crawl under the sinful sheets, i close my eyes and just imagine your warm body pressing behind me, emanating heat and security. But all I can feel are the white distant freezing walls. If I touch them sometimes I get flashes of our old memories spilling through the reality. And i like what I see. But i cannot see clearly.

Your face is getting blurry. Your imperfections I knew and loved are vanishing slowly into the abyss of old memories. But i torture myself darling. I’m fading too. I don’t create new memories, i don’t let other fingertips drive me wild, and that hole, that void I’ve been filling with nothingness and misery, it’s getting bigger baby.

No wonder the walls hate me, they blame me from condemning them to solitude and never-ending winters. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s not that I cannot move on. We had our time, we had our bliss.  But that’s the thing with great loves. Once you know, you can never go back.

 How can i tarnish our memories with someone not worthy of our walls? How can I survive them laughing at me and my attempts? But i cannot stop trying, i don’t want to give up. Endless and vicious circle. Ergo, I ran, i run, and will continue doing so. You are dead to me. I mourned long enough. But until there are new memories, I will hold on to ours. The bar is set high now. I cannot go mediocre now. Only hot mesmerizing caresses, sinful moans, rustled sheets, and new echoes of lust can save me.  Im a sinner. Sin is what I know best.

Carpe diem

He sat on the bench at the bus station, freezing . it was early in the morning, and winter was bathing the town in total whiteness. Snowflakes flew lazily around him and disappeared into nothingness. He was bored, cold and sleepy, and surely the fact that he was the only one out there didn’t help the feeling of loneliness…he shoved his hands deep in his pockets as if that would help him get warmer. Bus was nowhere in sight… even breathing the cool air hurt him… he sighed. Even the thing that should be keeping you in life hurts… what else is left? Is there anything left at all? … He stared up front , amusing himself with his own cool breath escaping him, running away and slowly vanishing in front of his own eyes. Puff! And its gone… no trails left, nothing to mark its existence… just like that , one moment existing, the other you are not…. He felt like that breath, empty, not valuable, not important… Troublesome thoughts for a young mind, but sometimes the mask we wear for outer world has nothing to do with who we are inside, and how old we are. His heart and mind was ancient. Only eyes can give people away, like wormholes sometimes they just suck you in, and warp you to the truth behind them, show you a glimpse of what is inside…  He slowly pressed his eyelids together like that will help him think, or, help him not to think at all. So much pain, so much loneliness…

Something changed, something was different… slowly he opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of sunshine, spring, energy… Then he realized he was staring at somebody’s eyes. He got to his senses and abruptly scooted and made enough room for her to sit next to him. She flashed him a delicate smile, and in that moment he thought of Mona Lisa… He suddenly felt relieved to some point, simply because he wasn’t alone anymore, at least not physically.

She had that angelical look, eyes filled with sparks, a bit foxy but also modest.  He wanted to tell something, but the more time was passing by , the more he was losing his bravado and confidence.

What was he supposed to say in the first place??? She started to shiver, and push her hands in her pockets, grasping firmly soft fabric of her coat. It seemed like she wanted to huddle herself and hold tight… Soft breeze carried few snowflakes that went astray, and they were lost on her damp wild mane. It also carried the sweet scent of her parfume, and he gathered it like it was the last thing on earth…

He wanted to get close, he wanted to put an arm around her, to hold her in his arms, and then he was struck by his own thoughts…

What was happening? He didn’t know, but he liked it. He was so empty before, and now he knew he was ALIVE, the way heart springs to life after so much loneliness… He felt stupid and wonderful at the same time… He felt like a child. Ignorant and blissfull. He doesn’t know her, and he really wanted to change that. Than something came to his mind and swept the smile of his face. What if he never sees her again? What if he only has this moment to make it right and if he doesn’t he would never have the chance, she will disappear from his life just the way she came in, like a snowflake, and be lost , without a trace like the hot breath… While he was panicking and thoughts rampaged through his brain, something happened… They both drew deep cold breath at the same time and let it out… In one moment hot air collided, and they were joined  together… It was so simple, so ordinary, yet so intimate and alluring… They were one, and it felt like a soft caress, a kiss , where their essences mingled… he gazed at her catlike eyes, and for a minute he was pulled in, and saw that she wears  a mask also, and that beneath that beautiful smile and sultry eyes  was a glimpse of sorrow and … fear…

“What could she possibly be afraid of?” He thought to himself. But he knew that he really wanted to find out. He was broken. But he felt the need to fix her, to care for her, her whose name is a myth, her who he knew nothing about… A quick thought flashed through his mind. Was she just a dream? If she was, he didn’t want to wake up…  What to do, what to say, how to start something and break that awkward silence that was consuming them both? He wanted it to be something grand, something special, like she was a deity that deserved nothing but the best. But whatever he thought, was so simple and ordinary and… not worth her…

Something roared in the distance and he couldn’t make out the sound since he was occupied with his own thoughts… He glanced at her , and was confused. Out of the blue, she was sullen and … could she be… hurt? He was puzzled, and couldn figure why the sudden change? Roaring was awfully loud but he never moved his eyes away from her tearfull face…

Then she got up, and entered the bus that she was waiting. He just stood there, he couldn’t move, couldn’t seem to apprehend what was going on… he saw her going away… and yet again, he wanted to do something , anything, to stop her, to go with her, but he just sat there with horrified expresion upon his face. She entered the bus and stood next to a window on the far end. She looked at him, her eyes watered, filled with unshed tears that would burst any moment now. He jumped suddenly and knew that he had to go to her, to hold her, kiss the pain away from her beautyfull eyes, to feel her scent once again… In that moment few things happened at once. He sprung up from his seat, the door of the bus closed, and one tear rolled down that otherworldly face…

He just stood there and watched her pull away and there was nothing he could do… He let her escape… Light shone upon him, for the first time in a while and he… just let it set, he let the dusk take her, the dark within him… Horror spread throughout his face and he started to tremble. It wasn’t from the cold… he watched her dissapear in the distance…  Now he would give anything for her to be a dream, just a beautifull dream, and that he came back to cruell reality but… At least he would know that he didn’t loose her since she doesn’t exist except within him…

But he couldn’t lie. He knew that it was his fault…

He just stared and… did nothing… He was angry at himself, he let her slide away, he let his sunshine get away. She left no trace and still she marked him in so much ways he knew he couldn’t even begin to think it was possible… Snowflakes were getting angrier too, wind was howling, and it slashed at him like a whip… But physicall pain was now nothing. He was dying inside… If only he did something, If only…

Are there more painful words that that If… ?

He just stood there, wilting, and … waiting… Waiting for his body to start working, for wheeles in his mind to start turning… But he couldn’t move. To move away meant to trully leave her and memory of a little foxy Mona Lisa who stole his heart just with one deep hot breath… He slumped back to his seat and realised that he was staring at her footprints in the snow…

Snow was slowly but willingly filling even that memory and he panicked… The only proof of her existence is dying away, vanishing into nothingness and he couldn’t do a thing. Time is passing by. Time is always passing by, and he learned that lesson now. It spares no one. One thought seemed to be forging inside his mind…

Carpe Diem. Seize the moment… He smiled bitterly  and closed his eyes. He seized only pain. For so long he wanted to be happy, just happy and when an opprtunity presented itself, he stood on the sidelines and let it slip away. Let her walk away from his life just as silently as she walked in…

He dropped his gaze, and closed his eyes… He will cherish the memory of her smile… He was forming an image, and he saw again how flakes were damping her wild mane, how she gazed upon him, he saw his sunshine again, and painful  lump started to build up his throat… He will not cry, he will not break down , because he knew that if he did, he wont survive, he will perish just as she did… He now felt her scent… God , its breathtaking! He was bathing in it, and enjoying every breath he took… perhaps it would be his last, and he wanted to savor every second he could. Perhaps he wouldn’t die, not physically, but he knew that when he opens his eyes he will die away and become just an empty shell walking throughout life , floating , alone, utterly alone, and bitter for not doing something, anything… He would be dead inside if he sees those footprints vanish and be no more… He smelled her still, and bathed in lilies and sweet sensation she emanated… it felt so real… it felt so strong… a tear rolled down his cheek leaving a blazing trail which hurt in the cold… To feel… no more….

Then he took one deep breath of her fictional, yet more real than reality itself , lingering perfume and savored it like it was the last thing on earth. It probably was. He learned his lesson well. Cherish every moment you can…

Then out of a sudden  he felt a feather dry his tear away, and when he looked up he saw the sunshine. It had dawned upon him and he saw those foxy eyes and that breathtaking smile… He looked upon her as his savior. He was speechless. He was struck. She gazed down, and slowly lifted her eyes up, as if she was afraid… Then she whispered, softly like the wind: – A simple Hi would do…

Winterheart

 The winter is coming…  I can feel it in the air, in the unforgiving ferocious wind… I can feel it in my bones… But above all, the winter is dawning upon my heart… And it is here to last,  to settle and freeze what’s left…

I need the embrace, and its cold hands are welcoming me into their frigid empire… I could not resist… I needed to be held, needed to feel that somewhere, I do belong, somewhere I could be who I truly am… Fragile, tender, and hurt. Without the false smiles, without the heavy masks to hide the weakness. True me, one me that’s reserved only for the people who know my soul. Bare me, naked, hurting, eager to be loved, prideless…

      There is so much one heart can take, and I suppose mine has reached  a limit.

Once its desire was only to feel, to hope, but now it only wishes not to feel, for what is worth the feeling when its only pain? What is worth loving, when its only now an air…

       Hot and flaming, once it was… desire burning now is lost. Once what was me now remains, but in shackles of former emotions… Free me… I beg, I would even kneel , please, do free me so that I hurt no more…

     Embrace me, hide me, bury me with coldness… make everything disappear, and maybe sorrow will too…

     I feel it coming, I hear it roaring, like gods of war on their battlefield. I can even see it rushing to meet me, the mighty avalanche storming towards me… And  I am not afraid. I stand with my head held up high, and reaching arms… I’m welcoming it with my body, mind and soul. I have no fear. Of what I’m supposed to be afraid of since I have lost it all, lost it numerous times, and every time it hurts like it never hurt before…

So consume me… roll me inside,  because I know that once the storm passes, silence will remain… and within that silence, I will be frozen and still… and heart would stop pounding.. what good there is to beat  alone?

One heart cannot make the music. One heart cannot dance the dance. One heart can only be what it is. A one lonely heart…

      So please winter, take me, threshold of pain is a burden of its own… but loneliness I cannot endure.

Love me winter, hold me, caress me like gentlest lover, and be tender, be kind to your mistress, for all I have now is your touch… lull me to sleep, let snowflakes dance and dazzle me , take my mind of the hurt. I am yours now…

Freeze the tears upon my face, let them be the crowning jewels of my pain, let them remind me not to fall again…  so othe the worries away like you would to a child… release me from this hell…

Lock me away,bury me inside the deepest snows…Make me cold enough, so that any touch will melt me…

If I am to be touched and melted, embraced , I  will fall apart. And I desperately need to fall apart so somebody could pick up the pieces and put them together as they are meant to be. A whole….

Come to me winter, let me be your frigid mistress, caress me softly, for there will be the day when the spring will come and melt the pain away. But that day is yet to come, and pain and pride is all that it is left…