My heart in isolation

A broken heart is usually mended in isolation.
Like Bukowski said.
“You get so alone at times that it just makes sense”
At 3:45 am, I’m
waiting for the morning to come
waiting for the night to end
waiting for my heart to mend.
It all makes sense;
the things I’m drawn to
the people I wanna answer back to
the searches on internet I wanna go through.

I read about writers.
I read what they went through.
I read they all weren’t accepted the way they were supposed to.
Why does it feel familiar?
From where did
Plath, Woolf, Bronte, Bukowski
find words to let them swallow whole
or to swallow us whole?
Where did they hide themselves?
that they outshone everyone.

These are the places I go to
in isolation.
These are the people I re-visit
in isolation.
My heart aches from the hurt
and eagerly wants to find shelter from that pain.
Words make sense sometimes,
and sometimes they don’t.
My fingers itch to write more
but can never catch up with my mind
Or the heart
Not sure where are these words and thoughts coming from?

In isolation, I see my real self
Unprepared, unveiled, angry
because my own heart betrayed the rules and is aching more than it was supposed to.
It exposes a layer of vulnerability
to be cut through and dig out
the trash to be thrown away.

My heart wants to sing melodies of well-being
My heart wants to dance on the tunes of contentment and bliss.
My heart wants to drink and trip over to the seventh heaven.
My heart isn’t sure if it needs any ‘him’ or ‘her’ but
It, so ,freakishly, wants to be mended.
At times, my heart gets so tired of the hurt.
That even the excruciating pain isn’t able to make it suffer anymore.

~~ My heart in isolation


A Vase – Not as we know it…

I stood on my ground,
Though rooted.
Emptying myself to hold you, your essence, your whims
And your predilection for temporary fancy pleasures.
Placing foreign fragrance into my chest
For you!
New exotic flowers (temptations) were always your attraction
Over a perennial beauty of a familiar ordinary comforter …sorry, a container.
Dealing with your greed to stay by your side
I accepted many just to be accepted by you once.
And then one day
I was broken…
Just like Trust
The one that can never be back as same again
Yet was afraid to hurt you and
Never once I winced when you tip toed to save yourself
I only wished to be fixed.
All that time!
A crying help to be tried one more time
May be…may be after that
I become the one I was before
I serve the same purpose again
May be then You won’t get rid of me
Yes… I was broken yet wanted to be fixed
For you!

You know what the worse part was – I couldn’t be fixed, even if I wanted to.
Too broken to be reconciled…
Too late to be accepted…
Yet Too soon to take a detour
From your life.
I wasn’t your everyday flower but I held them all for you everyday
Just to be with you.