Whisky Words: Project (12)

This is Submission TWELVE of The Whiskey Words. The Whiskey Words is a writing project (and a giveaway). The winner will be announced on 1st of April.


You fixed me with the price of ruining yourself

Do you remember the first thing I told you when you said that you loved me?

“You’re mistaken.”

With “I love you too” written all over my tongue and all over my lips and all over my eyelids, I said “you’re mistaken”. You kept repeating “I love you” and I kept repeating “you’re mistaken”.

But every letter, every word that came out of your mouth was like a pink cloud of cotton candy, and every syllable you uttered reached me decorated in a bed of interwoven wild flowers.

And I gave in. You know how much I love flowers. Of course I gave in.

But little did you know that I only know how to kiss with my teeth and draw blood from your tongue. Little did you know that every part of me that you touch will be set ablaze in flames. I will burn, and I’ll burn you along. Little did you know that I cry tears of blood and when you try to wipe my eyes, you’ll be the one who ends up wounded.

But soon enough you realized all of this. All of me.

Everything changed then. Dark and grey and heavy clouds loomed over what once were your blue-skied-eyes, and with every blink, the sky above our heads ripped apart and it bled tears.

Tears that poured down on me. Tears that, when kissed by my burnt skin, turned into smoke and extinguished every part of me that was burning. Tears that drenched me. My hair and my eyelashes. I was finally crying tears and not blood. Tears that trickled down my face, my forehead, my nose, and settled down on my lips. My lips were full of moisture, full of life.

I was fixed and I wanted to kiss you with those lips.

But when I opened my eyes, you had already backed away. You were already far too gone.

Maybe,
You should have listened to me when I said “you’re mistaken”.

Because now all that’s left of us is you repeating
“I was mistaken”.
And
Me repeating
“I love you”.

You fixed me with the price of ruining yourself.

– Aayushma Manandhar (blog)

 

Hearts

“O heart, be patient” – Qur’an

My heart has been jumping around,
Quite a lot since,
I became old enough to feel it.
It beats faster,
with every sheep that I count,
one sheep,
two sheep,
and three.
Maybe it just loves to dream,
And since I’ve grown old enough,
And since the things I’ve seen,
It has become restless,
For it wants butterflies,
and flowers,
fire and gushing winds,
Empty cliffs and ferocious waves.
It wants roses,
and tequila shots,
and that one girl I just can’t walk up to.
It wants to travel to places,
that even cameras haven’t seen
places where there’s no chaos,
And everything is at peace.
It doesn’t know what’s enough,
for it still isn’t old enough,
but it’s old enough to want everything anyway.
It wants giggles,
and tears that don’t sting,
and lies for surprise parties,
instead of a casual fling.
It wants unrequited love,
adventures and crazy shit.
It wants to eat french,
and kiss Italian,
Hold tiny paws of dogs,
and look into the small eyes of cats.
It wants to live,
and not just exist.
What it does not want is to be
Naive in this world.
It wants everything good,
and everything bad.
But most of all,
it wants to be able to smile,
and let it reach the eyes.
That is all.


Previous post : A new shade.
Related post : What were we like?

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11:11s.

There are some things that bother me every night after 2 AM, after I listen to music with lyrics that do nothing except reminding me that you’ll never be mine.

It bothers me that I’ll never love someone this way ever again. Love changes everyday, and it bothers me that you’ll never be my constant. Someday, I might love someone else a little more than I love you, but I really don’t want to. I don’t want to fall in love with a brighter smile or a less scarred hands. Why would I when I can read your stories on your wrists in beautiful ink? Why would I when I can feel this strongly for someone so beautiful?

It bothers me that my wish of you being my first kiss will remain a wish. The world is not a wish granting factory after all.

It bothers me that I’ll never be someone you text when your hands fumble and your lips tremble and your sight blurs. It bothers me that I’ll never enter your mind when you want someone to talk to. I know I don’t deserve it, but when has that ever stopped anyone? When has worth ever weighed more than love?

It bothers me that every time you ask me something, I don’t know what to say.
When you wonder if you’re my muse, should I say that I write about you all the time, should I tell you that you’re my broken promises, 11:11s, the reason I believe in love, and my muse or just say that I write about you sometimes?

It bothers me that my always will never be your someday.


Previous post : Broken.
Related post : Diamonds.

Friends, if you like reading my work, do share it with your friends (on whatever social media you deem appropriate). It would be amazing to have more people reading my compositions. Please help my infinity grow bigger ∞