In Time

A Haibun

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Fresh Blossoms in February|Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

You fear a connection–the two of us, prone to falling before we should. It’s inevitable. In time, there will be wishes made to make us something we cannot become. I see it in your eyes, a glimmer of hope; a piece of understanding that things will probably turn out the way that they are meant to and not how we would like them to be. How odd, is it not? How love can stand in a pool of want and drain into a sea of forgetfulness… It is the manifestation of the elder mothers, wanting what is best for the girls who came after them, for their lineage to remain steadfast and strong enough not to break. But, we are cracking at the seams, splitting in two–two women yearning for affection when love stands in the air waiting for us to breathe it in. If only we had the strength to grab it and hold on. If only we could move out of the way, disappear to a place where minds remain open. If only we could…

I won’t deny it–
I am attracted to you
In time, love will win.

New Place

PDQ|Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

I tried a new place last week,
was lonely without you.
Good chicken fingers,
horrible ranch.

You would’ve ordered the steak salad,
extra sauce. I would’ve asked you to
get a side of fries.
We would have jaw-jabbed about
the retro look of the place
while sipping bland tea.

The best thing about it?
It was not the cleanliness,
nor the sizable crowd,
nor the beautiful bathrooms,
nor the fancy fountain drink machine.
It was simply the fact that…

They were playing
our song.

Featured Writer for February

Smita Vyas Kumar 

She is a brilliant Writer on Medium and is willing to take the journey along with me at A Cornered Gurl via Medium. For the next two weeks, her first contribution to the publication, To Conclude, will be featured here. Everything about this work makes me love the authenticity of writing poetry, of releasing, of capturing love and all its counterparts in a most precise way. Smita does that and ends the poem solidly too.

Please encourage her heart, beautiful people. 


To Conclude

roadends
Courtesy of Lubo Minar via Unsplash

Nothing ever ends well.

The sense of dread
you sometimes get
is all too real. Don’t brush it off.

Deals will be broken.
Your heart too.

What you thought would never
end on a bad note
becomes a pool of dried blood,
a flood on the floor

that leaves a stain
with jagged edges that will scrape
at your heels and pinch your toes
so hard to make your eyes smart.

Nothing ever ends well.
Don’t get fooled by promises
made and sealed
with a kiss. 

You let the friend go
when you took on the lover
and if it turns with the weather
you will always and forever
need a thick sweater
to keep out the cold.

Remember, nothing ever ends well.
It’s a myth made by minds
that want to go into enchanted forests
eat wild berries that stain the tongue

and swing widely from rungs
to fall into waiting arms
that won’t be there.

The leaves will crunch and crackle
under your weight
as your spine breaks
and you may never walk again.

The spirit may remake itself, sure.
But that’s the subject of another poem.

Tonight, just remember
nothing, when it ends, ends well.


To Conclude, published at A Cornered Gurl via Medium. This is the first of many guest Writers posts/features here at A Cornered Gurl via WordPress. Thank you so much for reading and thank you, Smita, for this beautiful poem.