Holding hands with HIM

​​For me the idea of holding hands is incredibly intimidating. But the idea of him holding my hand is always going to be tantalizing. Because holding his hands is more than the perfectly intertwined fingers, its more like holding a treasure that i was lucky enough to find, he was stupid enough to hold my hand when he knew nothing about holding on to or holding together.when he first held hands with me i remember how perfectly shaped they looked together, My hand looked tiny in his hand, we sat there admiring how different in sizes our hands were yet perfectly fitted together i was lost in how just the simple act of holding his hand can give me a feeling of safety, sweaty hand with a hint of icy shiver, i was disturbed by his voice ” yours hands are so small and fragile , while my hands are big and rough i’m excited about how our kids hands are going to be like.” i pushed him away and laughed at him and replied with “your a kid for now!! first grow up”  But its all a part of our memories now, or maybe my memories. now he holds her hand with the same old smile plastered on his face, I just sit here and wonder how it might have felt to hold another girls hand, after you held mine.I wonder if those hands sweated or shivered, like they did when we held hands. Most of all i wonder if it felt wrong ? or mismatched ? did yours fingers meshed in an awkward position? do you remember holding hands with me ? or did you for once wish it was my hand you were still holding ?all i want is just to hold your hand; i reached out but only to find air filling the spaces between my fingers.

elica frank


My sapphire

I met him out of the blue at a very captious time in life. When I was all broken , my trust on people fading and my desire to be alive was almost dead. He came along being all to common to notice, but somehow his wired jokes made me laugh till I forgot all the sadness my life was filled with. The more I got to know him, the more clear it became the two of us belonged together at some point.Not as lovers.Not as friends.Not as soulmates.Not as family. But something totally different. Something based on mirth meant and  fulfillment. I love how on my grumpy days he pulls all the stars down and brings to me just for my smile or to calm my cranky rants he brings ice creams at 3 am.  I remember when we got to know each other he thought I’m pretending and I thought he is faking it like a pro – how we row in the same boat, how we love the same things, how we are so broken by attitude and egoism, how we both were drunk with idea of love and romance . But with time I realize everything happens for a reason. What if we failed in friendships what if we failed in love what if we are tired of being the only one pulling things together what if we are broken on the insides but laughing on the outsides. We will make this happen.  We will make us happen . The weird us. The child cries . The ugly laughter. The unlimited hearts along with curse words. Because u make me feel complete and together we are complete and swithe. Without promises I know I can count on you for more than forever.  I don’t know if this makes me believe in destiny, or fate, or mere coincidence ; but it definitely makes me believe in something blue.



She can never be me 

She is not me and never will be me. She won’t get excited about seeing you and counting months then days then hours like me. She won’t pretend to act cool while her insides are on fire like me. She won’t pull you closer in a seductive way and wipe of the sweat on your nose and stick her tongue out to distract you and then push u away like I do. She won’t stay awake all night just for a text from you while you’re busy partying with your friends like I do. She won’t say I’m not mad at you while she is mad at you just because she is afraid of ur anger like me. She won’t sit and imagine gifting you a cat and laugh to her self dreaming about ur expression at 3am like I do. She won’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt while it’s killing inside like me. She won’t agree to everything you say in a blink of eye like I do. She’s won’t get mad at you because you slept in the middle of the conversation , then find it cute and funny and type out long cliché good morning texts for you to wake up to like I do. She won’t look at everything you do behind her back cry alone and act unaware in front of you like I do. when you ask her to write a love letter she won’t fill 72 pages like I did. she won’t go to the kitchen just for you and feed you with her hands the uncooked and overcooked food like I did. She won’t go numb and blank when u surprise her and later send you apologies for her reaction like I did.  she won’t give up in her dreams but keep motivating you like I did .  she wont be all broken herself but lecturing you to be strong like I did.

You sure must dream about you and her together but she will never be me. The sad part here is by the time you realise it will be too late.


Destructive kind of love ?

They say all is fair in love and war. I love him unconditional and I didn’t fall in love with him , I walked in love with him taking my own sweet time eyes wide open and in all my senses. I didn’t fall in love with what he looks like or what he does. I fell in love with him because of the way he makes me fervent and gives me the seventh heaven feeling. But things change bright day turns into dark night. The leaves turn from lucent green to  yellow then to orange. He has changed , his ways have turned from loving to hurting. Maybe destruction is his kind of love now ?  But they say you do not destruct what you love ? Maybe theres no love left ? Can destruction and love not exist together ? Just like pain and pleasure ?  But honestly  i don’t mind destruction anymore as I am in love with his destruction also.