Tuesday, January 3, 2012

The World Is A Monster

Scratching at the windows and the door, the world could not wait to kill us.

They got in so slowly, with distractions and memos, with forgotten dinners and missed calls.


The world could not wait to kill us.  

And I clutched you close, and I swear: I wished on every wish, that neither of us would fall.

But, no.

The world could not wait to kill us.

And we died.


Anonymous said...

The world was not afraid to kill us, for it is for the better.
The humans are not afraid to hurt us,
for it is for the better interest of us.
We become strong, weak, older never younger.

Sleep tonight like every night.
Every day the same has his highlights but dont forget to live when you are young. There is enough time left for you to sleep.

Anonymous said...

world in my pain

Whatever said...

The world is what you make it.....

Maybe she scratches at the door because she wants to Love you more, closer.

She goes slowly because Love isn't something one should rush. In the absorption of Love what IS'nt distraction?


Maybe She Couldn't wait to Love you

Gently prying you from all that keeps you from her.
Maybe when you fell she caught you.

MAybe you are man enough to bear her Love.

Anonymous said...

it's OK if we died together...

Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

This is beautiful!

Really, a lot of us are nothing more than the walking dead -- a slave to work and vices.

Anonymous said...

It's done
they say it's about time
it's always about time
Nothing can prepare for the time that when you change your mind far from on time
and I can't change mine
back in time.

Anonymous said...

I hope she loves you. I hope you find your happiness and peace with her. And just want to say that in all your thesis on who was/can on time and behind time, you forgot one basic truth. That being you and I are all human. We were always human and we will always be human. Think about it and you know what suddenly, time will not matter anymore. Just being there will.

i said...


Anonymous said...

it's the simplest and loveliest...

Anonymous said...

This poem was splendid, but what I wouldn't give for those last two words not to be there. They add nothing to the piece.

Anonymous said...

There is always time. Believe me, if deep down you really care, less about yourself and more about one who really really matters, time will stop ticking, the world will stop and watch.
Just jump.
Even if you don't fly, you'll still land on your feet.

Anonymous said...

You, your love is my miracle.

"Come to the edge,"
He said. 
They said, 
"We are afraid."
"Come to the edge,"
He said. 
They came. 
He pushed them
...and they flew.



Rakhi said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

Yes, for the one who really matters. Who matters so much that it turns you inside out. Yes you will scream when it happens. Yes you will feel so much that it will make your usual auto-pilot existence fade away into oblivion.Yes it will hurt. It always hurts when you cross a boundary.
But the one who makes you feel this way, will also know exactly how to make it better. And it will never hurt again. I promise.
You'll just never know unless you jump.

Forget the theories. Forget the words. Forget the judgments and counter judgments. Forget the mindfucking analysis.
Deep inside of you, you will know that it's not you going with the flow. But that you are creating the flow with the one. Ah :) you have to jump to be able to feel this.
Stay beautiful. Keep the crap out. Remember I love you.

Anonymous said...

Now to make the hurt better, here's a kiss on your left cheek, then your right. Then two kisses for your eyes. Then one for the forehead. And finally, a very soft kiss on your lips. Be mindful though. You may just miss the last one. :) And then 'I love you' mouthed out on your lips.

See? It wasn't so bad after all.

Anonymous said...

Let's go the river.

Anonymous said...

At one point we fell so far from where we were that we lost the world.

But it knew where to find us.

So we went step by step back to the place we tread from.

It took letting go to truly find out way back.