An ethereal scene unfolds before me

As you slowly stroll in my direction.

Your delicate hands,

Brushing against the dusty wooden railing

As silence falls slowly around us,

Marred only by the splashing sound of the water beneath.

And as you stop before me,

The sun shines its vibrant hue

Onto that thick lustrous black hair

Making it look preternaturally glossy,

And highlights every nook and crevice

In that nonpareil countenance

That Nature had taken time and care

To mould from scratch.

I stare straight into your eyes,

Distracted only by the flecks of green

Swimming in those ocean-blue orbs;

And I wish

That I could penetrate deep into your soul

With my eyes alone,

So that I would be

So bare and vulnerable in front of you

That those unsaid words-

Unable to escape coherently from my mouth,

Would get deeply embedded into your core,

All on their own.

Because darling,

I long to sculpt these words,

Stringing them together slowly,

Carefully,

One by one,

Into a suitable

Declaration of my love for you.

But my fingers are so clumsy and clammy,

And they tremble so much

That the string loosens.

And the words -

They become too tangled

And get so misplaced

As they fall,

Piece by piece,

Like beads,

Separated from the link

That binds them together;

Distorting the feelings

That are stored

And pent up for long

In my heart.

And as you stare back at me,

With that unknown expression

I’ve come to think of, as hope,

I can do nothing but smile;

While the dusty wooden floor is littered,

With all the eloquent words

That slips from my grasp.

Dear Mom, I know,

That I’m not the perfect child you’ve always wanted.

Dear Mom, I know,

That I can never be half as good as you.

Dear Mom, I know,

That I am often the embodiment of disappointment.

Dear Mom, I know,

That I am not able to fulfil most of the wishes that you have.

Dear Mom, I know,

That I don't really have all the good traits you wanted to inculcate in me.

Dear Mom, I know,

That you still want to love me despite all my faults.

But

Dear Mom,

Why can’t you ever understand how I feel?

Why can't you ever understand what I want?

Why can't you ever understand who I am?

Why do you never really listen to me?

Dear Mom, I know,

That you just hear what I have to say,

But you never actually stop and listen to me.

I might go to the hilltops

And scream out to you

Into a loudspeaker,

But you still will pay no attention

To my bleeding words.

Dear Mom, you know,

I really try sometimes,

To bare my heart out to you;

Because I’m not the kind of person

To sit and share sob stories around a bonfire.

But you never try to feel me,

Never try to see it from my perspective,

Always blame someone or something

To have influenced me.

Dear Mom, you know,

What I do,

How I think,

What is going on in my head,

Is not always influenced by people in my surroundings.

Maybe it’s just me, Mom,

Maybe it’s me in here,

Thinking in a new way;

In a way I’ve never thought before.

Have you ever thought of that?

Have you ever thought

“My daughter has a mind of her own”?

Because

Dear Mom, I know

I’m not the easiest person to deal with,

But have you ever stopped and tried to listen

To what I have to say?

Dear Mom, I know

I have failed

In certain aspects in my life

And changed my mind many a times

Along the journey.

But have you ever thought in this way?

That it’s not because of fear

That I’m backing out of here

But because I don’t want it anymore?

Because

Dear Mom, I know

It’s a big scary world out there

And I always thought I knew what I wanted

But

Dear Mom,

Now that I’ve grown up a little,

Maybe it's not the same anymore,

Maybe it’s not what I want anymore.

Dear Mom, I know,

That I hide things from you

But it’s not because I don’t want to tell you.

But because you would never see eye to eye with me.

Dear Mom, I know,

I am not the easiest person to read

But you claim you know me,

That you know, each and every aspect of me.

But can you ever see through me

When I’m at my worst?

Or holding back tears from in front of everyone?

Or when my lips are quivering from anger

But I cannot speak out loud?

Or when I am tired of everything

And just need a small break?

Or when my mind is screaming and bawling

But my mouth remains closed?

Or when I am smiling through my tears?

Or when I am truly happy with what I am doing?

Or when I'm really at my best?

Dear Mom, I know,

That when I ask you this question,

Your natural instinct would be to say yes;

But

Dear Mom,

If you did really question yourself

And answered it honestly,

I know your answer will not be the same.

Because, Mom, you never try to stop and listen to me.

Dear Mom, I know,

That you might know me

But you really don’t know anything about me.

Yes, we might speak the same language

But our words are so lost in interpretation.

But

Dear Mom, I also know,

If you ever closed your eyes and

Tried to hear what I hear,

Tried to see what I see,

Tried to feel what I feel,

You would understand me a little better then;

Understand what I want,

Understand how I feel,

Understand who I really am.

Because

Dear Mom, you know,

I’m just a simple 19 year old girl,

With a little hope in her heart,

And a few dreams in her head.

What does a rainbow mean to you?

A vision in the sky made of multiple hue,

Violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red,

“It represents the hopes of a writer”, my English teacher had said.

But those words, are meant for you, not for me,

My rainbows are in my room, those which none can see.

In multiple small bottles kept on the window sills,

Containing a collection of rainbow coloured pills.

Rainbows can stand for hope and optimism,

But for me, they are precious pills, to cure my depression.

All day long, all I crave are these, you see,

Oh my ghosts, they do come to haunt me.

I can love nothing but these pills in my room,

Even though I know that they foretell my doom.

But please, I do need help, I couldn’t care less for anything,

The rainbows in my room have come to me as a blessing.

I have no one. I am devoid of love,

Freedom has come to me, but like an injured dove.

I can fly, but only with the rainbow coloured pills,

That are kept carefully on my window sills.

Oh, how innocent you look

With those freckles splashed across your face,

Beautiful as the stars shining in the night sky.

Oh, how innocent you look

With those big misty eyes,

Peaceful green and sharp like an uncut emerald.

Oh, how innocent you look

With that sweet smelling hair,

Slightly dishevelled by the motion of your hands

Running through those golden brown strands.

Oh, how innocent you look

With that bright yet reticent smile

And those crescent shaped curves on its end.

But there’s nothing innocent about your lips, now is there?

So plump and pink,

So full and bewitchingly curved,

Bordering on the edge of obscene;

So delightfully tempting,

So sinfully expressive,

Unleashing unlimited desires with the slightest of manipulations.

I drink in every movement those lips make-

Its slight parting

When you take a breath;

The roll of your tongue under the cupid’s bow,

To swipe up that golden drop of whiskey

Or when you bite that voluptuous bottom one

As a telltale sign of nervousness.

And it drives me to the brink of insanity,

As I think to myself how you would look

When you stand in front of me,

Staring into my soul through half-lidded eyes

And darkening irises filled with lust.

Now you wouldn’t look so innocent, would you?

With my name falling sinfully from between those lips

With every groan, moan, whimper and scream

As you beg and implore for more and more

Until I wreck you;

Until I ruin you;

Until I make you mine.

Because innocent might be a good look on you,

But mine?

That would be just about perfect.

I walked slowly down the stairs, my hands sweeping against the warm wooden railing, as the last step creaked loudly in the deafening silence of the house in the dark stillness of night. My heart beating hard and my forehead glistening with sweat in the hot summer , I walked to the door and gripped the handle tight with my tremulous, sweaty palms and pulled it open harshly. A blast of freezing cold air hit my face as my eyes grew wide at the site of utter despair and desolation that stretched in front of me, bathed in the small yellow light from above.