Author: A Lightyear Journey

Happy Birthday, Cowboy.

“I hope the memory’s killin you over there”

Last month I stood silent in the middle of an arcade on a foreign land.
I felt a strange void in my chest,
I was reminded of the way I felt when I realised you were leading me to our grave.
I was blinded to the joy from the bulbs that lit the entire street,
Deafened to the bliss of the laughs that seemed too genuine for me to believe.
I played a song on my headphones.
As I heard the way too familiar words we used to listen to together,
I allowed the remaining breath from my lungs escape as a rueful laugh.
I let the heaviness of the void carry me home,
Away from the blithe streets that remind me a little too much of you.
Just like everything else did.

Last week I chased shadows along the corners of the mall hoping to bump into you somehow.
I had to curb the reflexes that wanted to call you and narrate the tales of my blatantly uneventful day.
My playlist succumbed to a handful since I couldn’t listen to the ones that reminded me of you anymore.
I threw away the pictures we had taken on our secret hiding floor.
I sat quietly on my way home, with the windows down, begging the undulating wind to wash away the memories of you.
Because I hate the feeling of missing you, so sure that you’ll never feel that way too.

Knowing that I could cry just thinking of you.

Last night I awoke with a jolt, unsurprised that I had another dream starring you.
With eyes barely open and mind barely scratching the surface of my conscious, all I could think about was the stress of your birthday coming soon.
I couldn’t bring myself to wish you the same way I’ve done for the past 5 years,
But just so you know, I didn’t forget it.

Happy Birthday Cowboy.
I mean it.

“I know we’ve gone our different ways, but do you miss me the same?”

(1:09)

0

The Wishing Well

what if i don’t get my fairytale?

I imagined my love to be Cinderella’s wishing well
Charming structure, intricate carvings on the soft, delicate marble.
I’d imagine wishing upon it every moment for the existence of a love that would lean with me over the well top and fish out all the change in it,
Telling me how he’d use it to lay the foundation of our first house,
For our wedding champagne,
For our kid’s first toy.

He’ll use my wishes to grant me those I never thought I deserved.

But my well has no intricate carvings,
And I am no Cinderella.
There lay no marble anywhere near,
It stands high with these soft red bricks,
Every inch of it screams ‘austere’.

But that’s not the worst part.

It has this force it attracts me with when a dweller takes a second glance at me.
The chipped bricks prick my finger as I return a smile of warmth.
As the dweller inches closer, the force from the well grows stronger till it all goes black and I open my eyes to find myself gasping for air.

As I drown in the dark liquid of the well,
My limbs slowly become tired and my throat fills with water every time I yell the dweller’s name.
As my chest starts to hurt, I catch a glimpse of his blank stare as he mouths ‘i’m sorry’ and leaves.

I hear the footsteps fading as I feel the warmth of my tears contrasting the cold water of the well.

So I add these weights to my boots,
As for the next time, I shall not go through this again.
But the next dweller comes in with this gush of wind and sweeps me off my feet.
But instead of him opening up his arms to take me in,
He lets me drown and as I feel the splash of the cold on the back of my head,
I question,

“How the hell did you end up here?”
“Weren’t you careful?”
“Wiser?”
“Tougher?”
“Weighted?”

I blame myself as I catch a glimpse of his blank gaze
Right before I hear his fainting footsteps.
I grasp the dents of the chipped bricks inside the well.
The indentations help me grip, just like they did before and I pull myself out.

Drenched.

Drenched in his memory.

Drenched…
in his indifference.

5

Our Cosmic Tale

One day the stars will narrate our fable

You told me each star had a story
They combined to form galaxies, the chapters in the book of the universe
You told me you’d read it to me one day

You said that we’ll find our solitude in a place in the middle of nowhere
We’ll lay a blanket on the forest floor at midnight
We won’t need a candle, the stars will be our nightlight
We’d stare at the sky and laugh because the Ursa Major looks more like a trolley than the Great Bear
We’d plan our next date, hopefully on a beautiful crater on the moon
We won’t need a candle, the sun will be our light
I could make a joke saying, “I’m over the moon for ya”
And while you’d shake your head in utter disappointment, the smile in my eyes would make you laugh

While we lay in the middle of nowhere, I’ll stare at you as you stare at the stars
And with sheer passion explain to me how every star that collided, asteroid that fell, planet that formed, led the world where it is today
Every star that collided, asteroid that fell, planet that formed, led me to you

I’d fold my lips and widen my eyes as they spill with happiness which even the blood in my cheeks couldn’t endure

You’d hold my hand and gently stroke your thumb against my knuckles in the shape of a triangle and another one over it, only inverted
It would take me a second to realise that it’s a star, but then I’d smile a little too wide and you would gaze at me a little too long

That night
We won’t move, we won’t flinch
We’d stare at the night sky for a while and then a little more after that, and a little more after that, and a little more after that.

4

A Tale of Her

She lies but her intentions are honest.

She’s the girl that longs for the tree shade during days and the sun during midnight.
She’s the mismatched girl whose woes I’ll narrate tonight.

She’s the girl that longs for you too much yet her cold demeanour is all she portrays.
She’s the mismatched girl that lets go of your hold too quick when all she wants is your tight embrace.

She’s the girl that curls up in the bed too hard, when coming up to your house and ringing your doorbell is all she wants to do.
She’s the mismatched girl that suddenly smiles with tears in her eyes, because a thought popped up while she cried, and that thought was you.

She’s the girl that makes fun of that jacket you wear 24×7, but is a mastermind planning to steal it.
She’s the mismatched girl that avoids you when she cries when all she wants is your fingers finding a way to her own till they interlock and fit.

She’s the girl that promises to be honest with you, but she does lie in anxiety for more than one night.
She’s the mismatched girl that’ll long for you reassurance even if she claims she’s always right.

She’s the girl who says she is prepared for a goodbye even though her lies are visible through and through.
She’s the mismatched girl that’ll never admit that for her it’s you…it’s always you.

2

Dear Stranger

I’m glad you don’t know this blog exists.

Dear stranger,

I’m guilty.
I’m guilty of my not-so-subtle side glances.
I’m guilty of roaming the hallways twice and expecting unachievable romances.
I’m guilty that you crossed my mind once and never left.
I’m guilty that I fear losing you, someone I never had, and being bereft.
I’m guilty of the film of scenarios I play on the projector of my eyes during the daybreak & the dullest of nights.
I’m guilty that my only reaction to seeing you is a sigh while every part of me that wants to grab you, fights.

So I desperately need you to know how obsessed I am with you,
How seeing you is the only thing I look forward to.
How I practice eyeing you discreetly when I’m all alone,
How I wish with everything in my power that feelings for me in your mind have also possibly grown.

No. No. No!
I berate my mind.
It’s unrealistic.
It is not worth it.
Ugh. Why did I have to be a hopeless romantic?

The society tells me to follow the “right way”,
Pop culture tells me to “cease the day”.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is that
The probabilities of “us” is minimal
Yet I can’t seem to let go of you.
I guess you’ll reside as a hostage for a while in my mind,
Till I finally find the courage to heavily sigh and move on just like I always do.

4

Abyss

I followed you into the dark only to lose myself

The days you cry, I help you stare down your abyss,
I prevent you from drowning in but somehow trip into something a lot like this.

Now as I stare down the chasm of what can only seem like an endless lagoon of hopelessness,
I look for your hand, your smile, to pull me from the sea of aimlessness.

My ship rides the storm on your bad days and reaches ashore at your relief,
My individuality seems to make a run for it as in my feelings I start to lose belief.

My emotions submit to yours so I push you away,
The next day I encounter another wounded soul and let them drag me down their way.

The empath in me is submissive to others as the human in me zips up the soul tight,
She knows what she’s been through and doesn’t want to become someone else’s emotionally contaminating plight.

This poem is actually inspired from a scientific topic of Emotional Contagion. Do read up on it, it’s quite interesting!

Also this concept of “abyss” was inspired by this fabulous video https://youtu.be/nXvQX3MNcmc

7

Quiet Encounters

Sudden Scribbles #10

To the stranger I run into everyday,
I don’t know you,
But when our eyes lock,
that’s a moment I wish would stay.

Take that as you may.

6

Star, Please?

Sudden Scribbles #9

” The dead of the night whispered the love I was unknown to,
from afar.
Until you left,
And I wished for you on
every.
single.
hopeless.
shooting star “

8

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