Your soy milk swirls around your cup and your Illam tea matches the colour of your skin. To form those magical milliseconds, your aunt had to send the golden parcel of unorthodox loose leaves all the way from the country's westernized shopping mall to where you now reluctantly reside. Why the reluctance? because I miss the rooftop... Kathmandu, I was sitting at the rooftop The stars were having their usual debate, I was eavesdropping their conversations, everything came easy in my life, even then, I am not taking a single ounce of my experience for granted, just like this Ilam tea in front of me, I have always been blessed and fortunate, Kathmandu, a different story you were sitting on the overhead bridge not eavesdropping, marvelling at the stars shining within the city. When you etched your name in each garment that bought your friends a cup of tea, I hope your friends know the pride swirling around in their cup, keeping them warm for a f...
Summertime last year, I spent my day stitching my tan with my see-through optimism, before meeting you at Thaikhun that evening. "what do you do for your self-care?" We took turns answering- your friends, I and our delayed dinner. The next 3 months were a series of blurred boundaries, gallery visits, and southeastern service. "In a grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter if you like me." my see-through optimism begged for a new thread you could see I was sad, and my tan was fading. In parallel, this place I once considered my home, was quickly losing its meaning "have a couple of uplifting weeks" said my therapist when he signed out for his holiday, in the evening. the same evening, my best friend, and I were searching for meaning of our names, both of which meant memory. the same evening, you sent me a voice message... "maybe we aren't right for each other" my heart sank into a dusty beige faux leather sofa, while my best friend r...
The first time you stepped your foot on my low bed I should have known, You would trample my naked white sheets and drive 122 miles back to your place hungover with sober pieces of my sheets. Of this brief brutal picture that was painted of us, somehow the colours were faint! I would look at myself in the mirror Sofian Shea Butter all over my body satin naked skin so I could glow in the dark Darkness was where I saw you where I loved you in your doubts and insecurities, That time when you hated yourself “fml! why am I like this?”- you said My heart bled because self-hate, my genesis framed familiarity. So, when you asked if you could stay because it was too late, I let you step on my low bed in an attempt to rescue myself in an attempt to save myself. You always turned off the lights before whispering in my ear, “Surprise me” Or “Have a little fun”- you would say, I knew fun are always finite I know you didnt want to hurt anyone That little fun had me in scars which a...
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