I like poetry and cigarettes
I like to pretend there's nothing left
Of a heart, of my beating brain
I like to pretend I'm still the same
Girl you fell for who likes the light
I like to pretend that I'm alright

I like sunrises and late sunsets
I like to place my calculated bets
On the possibility of numbers, pounds
I like that I feel time running out
That my hours are counted and dry
I like to pretend I don't ache or cry

Or shriek, a banshee to the moon
I like to say I'll get there soon
I like to think I'm like Liz Taylor
In diamonds, not a rotting failure
I like to say I still dream of peace
That I'm not insane or craving release

I like lists, planning, and cold style
Brandy and whisky and travelled miles
I like pages filled with art
I like to think I'm still in her heart
I call myself a golden-age fighter
I like to pretend it's getting brighter
I'll say I love these things till I die
Because I've no clue who I am inside.

*© Tara India

you built a city
inside my ribs
then left.

lately i find myself often thinking about you and my past and the bittersweet connection of the two.

and i see you in the morning and your hair's a wild mess that keeps the imprints of your gentle fingers fresh and pull each strand back with the effort of a breeze pulling flowers taught.

and i see you at noon when the sun is its brightest but everything around you seems to expect a grander light to emerge from you and i see that light and feel it's warmth on my cheek. and i wonder if my mother was right when i was a child and if i should be wearing sunscreen but i think i am willing to be burned by your presence rather than separated by the thin layer of protection i know i should have. i know i should protect myself.

and i know it in the evening when you look through me with your tired eyes
and i know it when i ask you how your day was and you reply with "fine" and i know too well that fine is not a synonym for "okay" or "happy",
and i know it when i feel alone on the couch with your body next to mine less than a centimetre a part yet you cannot hear my plea for you to hold me once more.
and i still know it in the middle of the night when the stars sneak away and pastel clouds burst from the horizon and i have woken up today, a good start i remind myself, but you are not here again and this time i sink into my bed and i let the realization sink in too.

i wish i would've listened to my mother because i can not live with your burns anymore.

You walk into any room I'm in.
Friends will think we are still good friends.
Cause you'l never know that you took my joy.

The moment you told me weeks back that you was calling it over.
I was hurt inside.
And inside I cried.
But you'll never know it.
Never know ,you took my joy.

I can put on a false face with the brightest smile.
And fool any friends and associates around.
When it comes to you.
Because you don't need to be kept up on the news concerning me.

And if you ask?
They will say, he seems so happy.
Yes, if you ask?
They will say, it's like he don't miss you at all.

Although you took my joy of happiness.
The day, the day, the day that you left me.
But this you'll never know.
Yes, yes this you will never know.

If you ever should feel bad about me.
I would advise you not too.
Cause happiness again will find me.