Lately all I have been trying to do

is to love myself enough

to know that

what you did to me,

my Dearest Masculine

was not what I deserved, at all.

What you put me through,

my Dearest Masculine,

was not something I ever saw coming from you.

I once read that, the one you love

is the one that holds the sword

but I can only ever see it as

my Handsome Lover

holding a bouquet of the most vibrant flowers...

(Here, each flower represents the most exquisite ways

in which you have destroyed me)

And in holding the gift,

In holding You, Dearest...

I hardly noticed the crimson red blood

soaking my white dress

(Here, the dress stands for the purity of my soul

and the purity of my love for you)

turning it into a blood red battlefield,

where the only visible ruins are

my heart - shattered into infinite shards,

my soul - tattered and dilapidated beyond recognition,

my psyche - once indomitable - still searches only for You...

(my inner baby- my psyche- searches only for you,

even after everything, as she does not know what else to do;

for her the first love was her best love and

she is crumbling at the fact that it wasn't meant to be;

she refuses to believe you didn't mean any of it...

she will love you no matter what...

she stands by what she loves;

for love - to her- is like Religion

and you - an infallible God...

my inner baby doesn't listen to me when I try to tell her that

you're gone...)

And with this canon event,

this magnanimous cataclysm;

My innermost dreams leave me,

just like you did.

My will to go on,

which is what once kept me alive,

foregoes me,

she has abandoned me too,

seeing me as a lost cause...

My inner baby has lost her faith in me,

just like I lost mine in God,

the day my mother died...

And all I am met with

in the bottom of this

chasm of grief filled destruction-

is Rage.

Rage, that I did not deserve any of this.

Rage, that I did not deserve any of this.

Rage, that I did not deserve any of this.

Rage against the injustice.

The ruins.

The wrongness of it all.

Rage makes me want to rise up now.

Shall I now call upon

my own inner Dark Feminine?

My inner Lilith, Hecate, Medusa?

Shall I rise,

like the proverbial phoenix from the ashes,

ravenous in my quest for

justice for all the wrongdoings,

and regain the integrity of my purpose

which shall be to again find

my indomitable warrior Goddess spirit...

To bring justice to my inner baby...

To become the Dark Feminine,

who now

cannot be reached,

seen,

touched,

or heard - ever...

By all those who have

betrayed my heart

hurt my soul

and used my purity

and innocence against me...

Maybe the scales shall balance

when he finally leads a life where

he sees me in everything and everyone he meets;

but I am nowhere to be found.

Yes.

Rage is my answer now;

and Loss will be his.

-Love.

-You hurt me too much, Dearest, there's no going back from this.

I have been trying to tell you that

my heart is weary, worn out

and torn apart…

tired from walking miles

back into the past

to meet your memories,

to reminisce our passionate moments,

to find itself again…

to find me.

I used to think that

I was so long gone,

so beyond salvageable

that it’d be futile to even try

to even make an effort

to find the scattered pieces

of the wreckage you left behind.

To be honest, I was,

and still am-

lost, vanquished by you,

and by my love for you…

I still try to find some semblance

of a ray of light,

something to soothe me

amongst this crippling despair and longing

that you’ve so cruelly

bestowed upon me…

Do I get to keep this gift of yours forever?

Do I get to keep you in my memory forever, even if it’s going to be this way?

Is this your way of eradicating

all traces of my innocence,

my purity of intent, my love

and my affection

for you

from my own heart?

I cannot help but think

you did not ever love me,

to begin with.

Your unfaltering loyalty

to your ego,

Your unfailing desire

to torment my soul

with the unceasing cruelty

of your absence…

Telling me- you care,

you care,

Oh yes! You do care, a lot.

But these words remain just that- words.

And after the evening ends

and the sun sets,

you leave

and you leave

and you leave…

You don’t come back.

You won’t come back.

I need to know my love,

I need to know.

To what is this resolute intent

to keep repeatedly setting on fire

these dilapidated remains

of my poor heart

owed?

I want to know

was it all just for

feeding your insatiable ego?

Did any of it mean

anything to you at all?

Is this how we part?

Do you get to be the one to take

my heart away from me?

And do I get to remember you as

unrelenting in your cruelty,

distressing me with your

stone cold bloodless heart?

What even is left?

of me,

of this inner hell you’ve put me in,

And I would say “of us”

but there isn’t an us.

There never was.

It was always just me

and my cognitive decline- causing abstract projections

of who I made you out to be…

King of my Kingdom,

Holder of my baby heart…

And in these

cerebral heat haze dreams

that I conjure up of us;

you cherish me so much,

embracing me in your strong arms

and gently caressing and kissing me

with love, so much love

as you away me gently

as the sweet scented wind blows

through the pink blossoms

on the marble gazebo

in the centre

of our garden…

You tell me you’re here with me now

and this time it’s for good…

you say you won’t ever leave me

or us

and you don’t

you don’t

you don’t.

~Love.

~Loss.

- You don’t ever come back. It‘s been years now, I am trying to find the strength to let you go.

- You never loved me. I get it now.

- Reality is too cruel a place to be in, specially when you’re not here with me.

- I conjured up those heat haze dreams of you, of us and I created whole parallel universes out of them, and for now and forever; I stay here, and I don’t come out of it.

- It used to be a thing where no one could take your place, but now even you cannot take your own place anymore.

- These heat haze fever dreams are laced with blue butterflies flying around in the sun above the sparkling sea foam glittering like diamonds in the brilliant volcanic sunlight.

Hello again, Dearest.

I‘m sorry I haven’t written to you in a while, I guess I’ve been out of sorts.

I've been this way for a long time.

Talking to you the other day felt like seeing the sunshine again, like being able to catch a sweet fresh breath of the most delightful air again.

It brought back memories, so many wonderful thoughts of the fleeting moments we shared together…

But it also made me come to terms with this small fact that I’d been grossly overlooking and avoiding; I think I may have started falling out of love with you now.

I don’t know when it started, but it has started, I can tell.

Everything feels phased out and I cannot make sense of it. My inner baby is screaming and crying at the prospect of even having to think of a world where you aren’t in it, and worse still, having to live and live on and live well in that world. She doesn’t want to. I don’t blame her.

Talking to you felt like losing the last train to Paris. (I remember writing this almost four years ago and it’s sad to see nothing’s changed, and that I’ve lived in this state of pain for years now…)

Talking to you felt like knowing summer and sunshine and all things bright and golden and beautiful have come to an end, and this end is beyond my control now, there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Hearing your voice felt like all the flowers in my lungs that you made grow bloomed again, making my chest so full of warmth and joy and tender love, that it got difficult to breathe for a while.

Listening to you say you weren’t okay felt like how a mother can’t help but snuggle and protect her newborn, wanting to end everything that makes them upset… I don’t know what that actually feels like but I imagine it would be like this. It felt devastating to know you wouldn’t let me in and you wouldn’t let me help you out.

Talking to you the other day made me realize perhaps you never did love me, you never did actually care, and you really were and are okay with never seeing or hearing from me again. I am still unable to articulate how that made me feel.

A series of endings, that seem to go on forever.

When shall I be offered respite, from these debilitating wounds that answer only to your name, and your name alone; I do not know.

I do not know if I want the respite, sometimes.

I really did love you the most I could, and now that’s the only thing I know to do well.

I know you won’t want to see me again; you’re already long gone. I don’t know now if I would want to, either. Maybe it’s better this way.

I’ve crafted a world now out of this pain and heartache and there you are, at its core… being in it will always mean being with you, for me.

I do not wish to go on from here.

I’m happy here, Dearest, leave me be.

-Love.

-Loss.

I’d like to believe that

had time been kinder

to you,

to me,

to us

We would have been spending today

laughing about random things

while sharing a nice cup of warm tea,

just back from a shopping spree.

I would have told you

how I haven’t spoken to him

in a hundred and seventy days

and that

this time,

although it’s taken everything out of me

I’m not going back…

and you would be so proud of me…

you would be so proud.

I would have told you

that I love you the most,

again and again.

I would have asked you

to teach me about love

about cruelty

about the intricacies of the heart

and I would stare amazed

when you’d say

“But dearest, they are all the same”.

I would have asked you

what can be done

about all the inherited rage in me,

about all the fury for the injustices you faced,

about all the grief and heartbreak I have that won’t leave me be

about all the anguish and despair I have that debilitates me…

But I cannot decide what’s worse:

To be met with stone cold silence

in an empty room

where no light goes in

and yet the darkness

is still too bright

Until I realize

you’re not here,

and you haven’t been

for a long, long time,

Or for me to be seen

as a stark reflection of you;

with sad teary eyes,

you know how it’s going to be for me

you’ve always known…

I am but a little piece of you…

Don‘t let me go,

Mother

don’t let me go.

Hold me.

I need to be held by you.

I need you.

~Loss.

- happy 61st.

- the days now are just a blur, spent in anguish, wishing to be done for good and come to you.

- in another universe the universe was kinder to us and you didn’t die when I was 19.

- for me, here, now, all the losses have been faced, this being the most brutal, cruel one.

-there is nothing more for me here.

-please come back.

I visited the beach last week. At sunset. I loved how the sunlight hit the water, glowing like diamonds.

I remembered the day we met on a hot summer evening four years back, and you were making us tea. I had just read the actual real story of the little mermaid that day and wanted to tell you how at the end of it all she had no heart to kill the prince with the dagger that, if stained with his blood before dawn, would give her back the gift of her life as a mermaid. But if she failed to do this, she would die.

She couldn’t do it. She didn’t do it. She jumps into the water at the crack of dawn and turns into sea-foam.

I remembered this when I was on the beach

There was foam, so much sea foam.

It was so sad.

I was so sad.

And then I remembered this quote by the same author- ‘a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more’.

It feels like that for me now. This loss- losing you- keeps burrowing so deep that it won’t stop, and I don’t know how deep it will go. If I did, if I could quantify it, I would know that there’s a bottom that I’ve reached, a sort of absolution. But that doesn’t happen. It goes on. It keeps going on.

I don’t see an end in sight, for now.

Somehow a part of me that is still in love with the memory of you likes that.

~Loss.

Lately I’m at a loss for words.

Nothing I write seems deep enough, meaningful enough.

Nothing I write seems to mete out the angst and desolation I seem to harbor despite any and every effort to heal.

I spend my days in a blurry haze of endless darkness and despair, waiting for the small glimmer of hope to spark my dark skies.

Where I am now, where you have left me is a place I would wish upon no one, not in a million years.

Writing this post reminds me of this Richard Siken quote-

“You swallow my heart and flee, but I want it back now, baby. I want it back.”

~Love. Loss.

Those that loved me

didn't build me a castle;

and those that hated me

didn’t dig my grave.

- not written by me, I just wanted to share this lovely piece.

My Pretty Sun,

My Dearest Lover,

where have you gone lately?

I lay in bed , alone

passing each day after another

wondering what has become of you…

I miss your lips on mine …

I miss you so much,

everything aches inside…

The loss I feel is so deep,

I can’t find an ending to it…

Your touch feels like

a forgotten dream

with fading edges

in my weary memories…

Your face, oh so handsome;

feels like a distant past

that happened eons ago…

In a way it did;

In a way, we did too-

happen eons ago…

The flame of our love

burns bright, Mon Ange.

But it is lit up by my burning heart

and soon,

this heart will crumble

to ashes

to dust

and then the flame may die out too…

I can’t promise you

that I can keep it lit forever;

but I can promise you

that I will try,

and maybe some day, I hope, you will too.

~Love.

But that is what I’m trying to say, Dearest.

That this past year,

everything has changed

with me,

with us,

with you;

and I love you, I really do

but I am unable to continue

being in love with you…

I’m trying to tell you

that you are better off

without this fallen baby angel

with ripped and crumpled wings…

I’m trying to say

that I no longer have it in me

to yearn for you,

to long for you,

and I’m losing my soul trying to love you

come what may…

Please believe me, Dearest.

I do not see the sun setting

as the moon rises;

I do not see the waves rise and fall

in exuberance

to meet the brilliant blue sky

shining in all its glory…

I do not see you leaving your coat with me to come back for it…

I do not see you coming back for another kiss…

Please forgive me, Dearest.

I cannot see ahead now,

my thoughts are fogged with

a deep, infinite grief

that doesn’t seem to end…

I cannot feel my heart now

it doesn’t beat with as much vigor

it doesn’t pump with as much love…

I gave you all I had left,

and I’m still trying;

to give you parts of me

to make a few memories for you

that you may want to come back and touch

should you feel the need to…

But know this, my Masculine.

I still do love you a lot

and I always will,

nothing can change that;

but I don’t have much of me left

and there’s still a few things I need to do

for myself

and I do not want much

in the years to come

I am content with the few

simple pleasures I have now

and my solitude serves me well…

I need to gather my wings around me now

make a cocoon and curl up

into a small ball of love-

love that’s enough just for me;

and sleep a good sleep

and dream a good dream

of a small babygirl playing with her mother

in a field of white roses

in the warm glittering sunshine…

I need to go back to my mother now;

that is all I have energy for

and that is all I await now.

I need my mother now, Dearest…

I need to find her

I need to go to where she is

I know now- it is only there

that I’ll find the absolution,

the love that I seek…

and I don’t wish to go on

on any path

that doesn’t lead to her.

So for now I guess

I’m asking you to let me go

and don’t want me back into your reality…

I have things to do that I promised my mother I would with every last bit of me I have left;

I have to honor her memory by loving myself

like she would have expected me to…

Please let me go,

Please let me go,

Please let me go.

~Love.

Loss.

-This is hard for me. You aren’t here. I don’t see a way out.

-I would have told you all of this in person. But you don’t see me, you don’t talk to me. You don’t give me a chance to communicate. That’s not a good thing you’ve done; not a good thing.

-I write these here so that you may find them if you come looking; but I know you won’t. You never do.

-You’re long gone, but I’m still here. Writing this post feels like packing up the last box in an empty house that you no longer know well; you don’t want to leave but suddenly there isn’t a house left and your box is full of broken glass and it hurts. It’s not a good feeling, I can tell you that.

-Not having you in my life is starting to feel like the new norm; and I’m beginning to try to be okay with it. I should at least try, right?

-Whatever this was, I did not deserve it. I did not.

-I wish I had my mom around to teach me that boys like you aren’t good, but I don’t. I wish I had someone to talk to about all of what you did to me, but I don’t. I guess I have myself though, but I’m not sure how to go about that as yet.

-You need to let me let you go.

-Take care, Love.

Dearest Masculine,

I write to you here because

there is no where else I can say this;

I write these lines here because

you aren’t here with me-

even though you promised you would be…

and I still have things to tell you

and it breaks my heart (more than anything)

that you won’t let me.

So tonight

when the moon is bright,

like it was

on that night

that I gave to you- me

and all my light;

I shall try and find the courage to tell you,

that lately it feels like

I can’t do this anymore…

Lately it feels like

I may not have the strength

to go on from us,

from you

and even trying shall

break me irreparably to the core…

Lately it feels like

I have forever been drowning

in my ocean of your absence…

I’m your baby,

I’m your mermaid,

but you,

my Masculine,

my Love,

you left me in broken scales and torn fins…

you left me bleeding on the shore…

Lately it feels like

my soft balmy October evenings-

where the sun (you)

has left the sky (my world),

may not feel so empty after all;

if the graceful moon

(my inner strength, my resolve, and retribution that comes through my awakening and healing- like forging a diamond in the fire)

has risen at the height of dusk…

pulling my waves toward it

calling out to me-

saying to me that it feels my pain

and tries to calm my turbulent waves

with pale, soft,

glittering, calm moonlight…

peaceful,

and relaxed… (my higher self knows that I will make it through this, and that this is not the end)

undeterred by my choppy razor sharp waves,

unafraid of my deep, pent up,

howling rage-

rage at having my essence (water)

forever burnt and evaporated

by the harshness of the burning sun,

when all I wanted was

to extend a wave or two

and caress the flames-

all I felt was a deep need to give my sun

some calmness,

some cool respite of my soft water love…

some of the exquisite tenderness and

divine love I had for you…

all I wanted was for my sun to feel about himself

the way I felt about him;

and all I wanted was to have my depths

illuminated by your brilliant light (I wanted you to love me),

tender warmth (I wanted you to want me),

and be enveloped in your flaming presence- I guess parts of me are taken hostage forever by you now- just like your burning rays stole my water… so I guess I am happy that this wish at least, has come true.

But Dearest,

before I veer away into endless labyrinths

of my unabsolvable anguish

and irreparable heartbreak;

I must come to the point-

I must tell you this-

I have started to feel like I may be

able to go on

and even though it may be

the toughest thing I have ever done

I think I am slowly gathering

the courage to at least try…

But I will forever and for always

be haunted by your memory,

be broken by the fact that you won’t see me,

you won’t talk to me,

you won’t let me see you,

you won’t let me talk to you,

and you won’t ever tell me why….

(Sone days I can’t remember your voice, or your face, and I break… all over again)

And Dearest,

my inner baby is screaming for you-

I’ve tried- more than I ever thought possible- to console her, but…

she won’t stop…

she won’t stop…

she won’t stop…

what shall I tell her now,

what shall I tell her now,

what shall I tell her now?

-Love. Loss.

-I went out today. I wanted to shop, laugh with a friend, have fun. I wanted to remember what it was like to be me before I met you. I bought scented candles. I remember I gave you a vanilla scented one, on 26th October 2019 at 1am. I hope you’ve used it. It’s my favorite. The one I bought today smells of the ocean- I got one for you too. I may probably never get to give it to you, because you’ve left now. I posted it on my Instagram story and found the most beautiful song ever to accompany it- I want us to listen to it together someday- and I immediately wanted to send it to you. Via message at least.

And then I remember- you don’t care. You don’t care what I do anymore, or how my day goes, or if I feel good or bad or how I eat, how well I sleep- not too well, hun, not too well.

You don’t care that I have nightmares of my dead mother lately and I wake up crying and screaming inside and being unable to breathe- in the middle of the night- and I can’t function for days on end, and it’s increased now, and I call you then when I need you most and you don’t answer.

You didn’t answer when I made my first call to you after my grandma died, because you’re the only one who’s voice I wanted, needed to hear. You didn’t pick up. You didn’t call back.

You don’t talk to me anymore. I don’t understand why. Please just tell me, so I can move on from this personal hell you put me in.

So yes, I remember all this and I think- what’s the point of wanting to tell you things, to update you, to try and stay connected to you?

You’re not here anymore.

You never were.

And so I write this here, but I know you won’t see it.

It’s better that way, right now I don’t feel like it’s okay to open up to you, and specially not in such a personal way.

I cannot show you my soul anymore.

You’re not here.

I still love you, though- tonight- I don’t want to.

I’ll meet you in my heart- at least I have you there…

P.s. the song is Epiphany- lofi edit.