Aps- The Muddled Utopian

She loved open books, because she was one. She spoke like the letters of that novel, which created a picture that felt like mine. She looked like a picture of that color book which had all the shades of emotions. She never loved endings, so she always wrote new beginnings She knew time is not hers, so she lived every moment whatever she got.. Her eyes searched people who loved open books and were ready to share.. Closed books scared her as they had given her scars, they were the reasons of her nightmares and they took away seasons of stars. But she had learned her ways, books helped. She now choose the books to read, write and share. The chapters that can be book marked and the chapters that can be skipped... The chapters that can be closed to heart and the chapters that had to be torn apart... The Chapters that meant adventure and the ones that meant just time-pass. She is a happy reader now and a selective too...

“I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forever’s. We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin. Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night. Our love came when we’d given up on asking love to come. I think that has to be part of its miracle. This is how we heal. I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you. And I will not be afraid of your scars. I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know: whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant...

From the shadows of the dark,  He emerged riding a storm...  He was in love with the Asphalt,  Never together yet never apart... Riding his ride like a hawk,  he conquered the wind and my heart...  He always celebrated broken bones and bloody knuckles,  His scares and elbow patches always told me stories of his adventures of unseen lands...  The sound of motor, The wizz of wheels has now become part of my heartbeats like his... Rider galloped in to unknown glory, with unknown destinations to conquer..

For me it'll always be you. The Rainbow in the  the storm, the silver lining on a cloudy day The one for Midnight calls, the one for endless talks. For me it'll always be you. Someone who reads my eyes, someone who shakes my brain The one who beats in my dreams, the one whom I long to meet For me it'll always be you. With you silence is the best language, With you laughter is the color of the day, With you time gets wings, with you my untold dreams come true For me it'll always be you. Never knew what a “soulmate” was, until you came and gave that word a meaning For me it'll always be you, Alex to my Marty .. Dedicated to @ispritualist :) 

I saw a girl walking down the corridor today, and a memory flashed in my mind. For a moment it felt like an illusion that instead of her it’s me walking down the lanes which I used to visit often in the olden days. Chocked for a while I came back and sat on my chair, but the thoughts never left. That's when I started walking down memory lane because I know I'll run into people who have left there. Isn't it funny how sometimes the people who gave the best memories become a memory? , maybe that's why we love walking down the memory lane so much. As I walked on, I kept on bumping in to mirrors which were reflecting the different colors of my old existence some of which I had forgotten (or I think so I had) , some of which I know I have packed in corners of mind and so of which I still carry along. But I still remember it all, as they say “A girl, no matter how many times she denies it, she will always remember every detail, every moment, every piece of the memories yo...

I see her shivering in the empty corner, Is it the cold or lack of warmth in her I wonder !! People said she always walks with droopy shoulders, her spine is curved may be.. or may be she is carrying a bag of broken dreams I wonder !! She has lost her memory, society calls her mad.. I wonder, what if she doesn't have anything worth remembering !! She lacks maturity, behaves like a kid who never grew up "THEY SAY", I wonder, what if she doesn't know how to fake it !! Neighbors say she once used to rattle like a chatterbox, now not a word she utters, she is depressed they say.. I wonder, what if she doesn't find them worth taking to anymore !! They say her eyes are all dried, she never cries, I wonder, what if she doesn't have anything worth crying for !! Tears have value only if there is someone to wipe them, else they are just water droplets rolling from eyes.. Hugs are only worth the love someone has for you, Words only hold value of t...

How long should I bleed before I drain out... How long should I scream before I am heard... I guess the watch has already stopped ticking, its the fake hope all along that I am living... But there is a voice inside that says don't give up yet, There might be a sunrise behind that gate.. But where to get the strength to push it, when I am not able to lift my own eyelids.. The waves have died long back, The World is yet to discover that, as it is not bothered yet... But the little Birdie knows, time is near and it will soon disappear.. This time its not gonna cry, this time there won't be any shouts... No anger tantrums, No pouts.. it'll be silent till the judgement day comes ...