His Confession

It seems like my words have just been reduced to one woman. When I write to her my heart turns into oceans and my words to shores. All the ocean knows is to come back to the shore, with no two waves alike. I can describe her almost perfectly.. from the spontaneous energy in her kajal-eyes to her beautiful fingers, and to that faint scar on her forehead. She talks of some great people and madness. She smells of euphoria and happiness. Her eyes look of intellect and soulful desire. She listens to my life. She makes me long to lie with her. And when she looks at the low moon in the winter sky surrounded by the mountains of forever -my words just can't stop spinning. Every time this moon shines, it witnesses the overwhelming emotion in my heart, and perhaps it nods at my determination to hold her tighter than time.

I want to write something heart-wrenching beautiful. I want to write something that would crawl under the readers' skin and reduce their souls to shreds. I want to write with the longing that we dare not talk about, the suffering that we carefully tuck away between layers and layers of darkness and secrets. I want my words to dance on their wildest imagination; crack their hearts open so that new light can shine through. But I am just useless.

Lately, I write to find that moment - the moment that led to me this madness.

-omi

Madness...

Writing after a long time guys!!
Hope you like it!

She was desperate to find something, anything that would soothe her ache. She wanted to not feel the craziness of her heart. She wanted to forget and not want the things she couldn't have. She wanted to exchange her burned, scarred heart with a brand new one, and she was desperately hunting for the clean heart, for a fresh start.

When she met him, she knew. She knew it was the purest heart she could find, and she had to have it. She was so desperate to clean herself that she did not care if she dirtied him in the process. So the first opportunity she got, she pounced. She dug her nails in his skin, and ripped his chest out. And there it was, the most beautiful thing in the world, and she was about to have it. She was about to rid herself of all her crazy, and all the her madness. It was wonderful.

And yet, no matter what she did, she couldn't take it. He was smarter than she thought, he was better than she thought. She wanted a fix, and he wouldn't allow it. He actually loved her. It was almost cruel.

All she ever wanted was a man who would soothe her madness. That was the only way she knew. But he only burned it more, made her crazier. He was right: the cure was not to fix the crazy but to accept it. She wanted to forget. He made it okay for her to remember

Wish you a very Happy New Year!! God bless!

-omi