One Sheep, Two Sheep

She lies in darkness, eyes closed,

Empty thoughts prevail, wild and reckless.

Her eyes awaken, now that they’re forced,

Fingers frantic, fiddling with the necklace.

Empty thoughts prevail, wild and reckless,

Noises by the door, distinct in their silence.

Fingers frantic, fiddling with the necklace,

Heart beating fast, unable to find a balance.

Noises by the door, distinct in their silence,

The click of a doorknob, the ruffling of feet.

Heart beating fast, unable to find a balance,

Aberration in breath, hidden under the sheet.

The click of the doorknob, the ruffling of feet,

Her eyes awaken, now that they’re forced.

Aberration in breath, hidden under the sheet,

She lies in darkness, eyes closed.

---

So I recently found out about pantoums.

Pantoums originated in Malaysia in the fifiteenth century as a short folk poem made of rhyming couplets that were recited or sung.

As the pantoum spread, the importance of rhyming diminished and the modern pantoum is a poem of four-line stanzas in which the second and fourth lines in each stanza serve as the first and third lines of each stanza. The last line of a pantoum is usually the same as the first.

I hope that was understandable, in case not, here’s a template I found online.

So yeah, I gave it a try as well! Tell me what you think of it, and give it a try if you feel like it. It’s pretty cool. Until later,

Bye Xx,

SLTD.

oeuvre

She used to have a way with words, people said,

A story woven like a blanket,

Smothering yet comforting.

And so, she wrote.

But then came The War,

The War within her head,

Fear and destruction taking over,

Leaving numbness, trying to forget.

Nothing helped.

People, them, him, her, I.

How was she to set aside her past, her whimsical tragedy?

So she turned back to what she knew best.

Her egress away from the confront she faced.

And so, she wrote.

It wasn’t the same,

Beautiful? Yes, if the mass was to be trusted.

Validation streamed in, she trickled out.

A river drying up, a tree meeting its end,

She realised her art-

Her art was chaos, the same way she was.

And so she wrote.

Then came a time of peace,

Tranquility, as they say.

But she knew it was just a hiatus,

Until the gunpowder was filled again.

She tried.

Tried and tried so damn hard,

To write.

And so she wrote,

but she didn’t know what to write about,

what to do with the calm,

The unknown.

She wrote, but it stayed unfinished,

A lover never returning, a bird never landing, a story never ending.

All she’d ever learned,

Now she didn’t know.

All she’d ever thought to be gospel,

Now gibberish that her pillow heard at night.

But when The War struck again,

The battle regaining its might,

She wrote.

Wrote so fiercely, tempestuous in her rage,

That the words became ugly,

No longer a window to look out of,

But bars to hold onto desperately.

And so she wrote.

You know what they say,

Time tends to run away.

So there came a time again,

Where The War seemed to have come to an end.

And now,

There was no uneasy wait.

There was anticipation, hope,

A girl trying to peek into the future,

A girl trying to cheat life by living it better than it was allowing her to.

So now, she saw the colours,

Not just red, black or blue.

She saw yellow, she saw light, she saw green, she saw life, she saw purple and everything in-between,

She saw a girl, holding her hand and singing sweet.

She saw herself, swinging,

Not in that desolate lone swingset she passed by everyday,

but in a playground full of noise.

She heard.

Her hands itched, her mind ran,

Wanting to shout, wanting to burst into a cacophony of symphonies, wanting to fly.

The girl met her lover, the bird its family,

the story awaiting a happy ending.

And so,

She wrote.

---

…

Well ahem,

Hello there!

I was definitely not on an almost-year long break with no inspiration to write whatsoever, that was definitely NOT the case.

Those things aside, hey everybody! I hope everyone’s doing good, I know it’s been a long time since I’ve interacted with you all and I missed you, but hey I’m a college student now, living the adult life and everything.

So I hope you enjoyed that poem(?) and all I can say is that I hope this will help me get back into the flow of posting again.

*Fingers crossed* see you soon,

Bye XX,

SLTD.

Atrophy.

TOXIC

ɒksɪk (adjective)

poisonous.
Example: “the dumping of toxic waste”
synonyms:
poisonous, venomous, virulent, noxious, dangerous, destructive, harmful, unsafe, malignant, injurious, pestilential, pernicious, environmentally unfriendly.

She read the definition over and over as she waited for his arrival.

Destructive, harmful, unsafe. Yes, he definitely fit right in. And yet, she couldn’t stay away. She knew that he would lead to her inevitable extinction. However, she continued to believe that things would change. No, it wasn’t a belief, was it? It was hope. A dire desire for a better future that kept her going.

It hadn’t always been like this. When they had first met, through a mutual friend at a party, he had been enamoured by her. Stuck around the whole time, called a cab for her to go back home even though she insisted that she lived only a few blocks away and wasn’t drunk at all. And he had continued to stay by her.

So she fell and fell, kept falling in love, thinking there would be no end to their fervour.

But then, she hit rock bottom. Discovered that there was no way up and that she’d fallen so deep that she couldn’t see the light above anymore.

It’s not that she didn’t try to get away. But she always fell back to him because she no longer knew how to survive in the luminescence. She had become a creature of the Dark.

So she stayed.

He didn’t always hurt her, only when she went against his direct orders. She tried not to, she tried her best. Nevertheless, she was only human. And she committed mistakes. But she endured, she deserved it after all. He had warned her, she forgot. Therefore, she was at fault, right?

Even if she did leave, where would she go? She was damaged goods and he was all that she had in this world now. Loneliness. This fear was strong enough to override any other feelings. To her, being together and unhappy was preferable to being alone and unhappy. He took care of her and she was grateful that someone still cared.

People changed. He had changed once and he could change again. She knew he could. She had already seen his bright side and she thought she could unearth that side of him once again. Only if she stayed could she make sure his heart became warm again.

So she stayed.

And the jealousy, the possessiveness that he showed, didn’t that mean he loved her? He adored her? The violence was only to make her understand her wrong, to show that he cared? Wasn’t that right? The pain would remind her not to err again, it was perfectly normal, wasn’t it?

And at least, she didn’t have it as bad as the others. She’d read in the newspapers of abusive partners, that hit their spouse, sometimes even leading to their death. So she was better off, right? Sure, their relationship was far from perfect but it was good enough. Every couple fought once in a while, it was normal.

So she stayed.

Stayed because she couldn’t think of a time before him, because she had become a parasite, clinging to him for some petty praises to garner their relationship.

Stayed because the only true love she had received had been from him. She hadn’t known a loving touch until she had met him. Hadn’t been wanted until him. So the possessive desire he showed, it was better than alienation and animosity. And she could endure it as long as she didn’t have to go back to being alone.

Stayed because love wasn’t meant to be easy. Relationships took hard work and hers was just a little more strenuous. It was a struggle but she did it with no complaints, thinking it would lead to a better tomorrow, a brighter, happier one.

Stayed because she had given up. The light of the day was quite frightening and unknown and she didn’t know how to survive out there. She had grown accustomed to him, the same way a weed clings on to a tree. But then again, weren’t weeds plants as well? They were just trying to survive. And if she had to make a few sacrifices so that he would stay by her side, she’d gladly do it.

Stayed because they’d been together for so long. For years now they had lived a symbiotic life, coexisting with each other. She had invested a huge fraction of her life into the relationship and giving it up now would mean it had all been for nothing. That she was once again, worthless.

Stayed because she had forsaken daydreaming, herself and life itself; having no more reason to think that her life could get better, that she deserved better. There was no more faith, dreams or wishes left in her.

So she stayed. As she had years ago, as she did now and as she would continue to do. False hope was a terrible thing, keeping her alive, slowly draining her until she would be a mere husk of a human.

Settled, lingering around him, unsure of her future but sure of who she would spend it with.

---

Hey everyone!

It’s been a while, and I’ve tried writing a lot this past month but always came up with half baked storylines.

Today however, I was listening to Butterfly by BTS and decided to take the lyrics in a different direction.

I hope you liked the story. If you thought of a particular someone while reading this, go talk to them. Those who are in toxic relationships may not know they are in one let alone how to end it. Knowing that they have someone else looking out for them helps. And if you are in a relationship like this, I urge you to try and leave. I’ll look out for you. Feel free to talk to me.

---

Also, not that it’s a big deal or anything, *shrugs* BUT TODAY IS MY FIRST ANNIVERSARY!

I’ve completed a YEAR of running this blog and I want to thank each and everyone of you who actually reads the scribble that I post. I do this to express my feelings and emotions and all your feedback and positive comments and especially your not-so-subtle reminders to keep writing is what keeps me going.

So thank you, thank you, THANK YOU.

Thank you to all of you who make my blog complete, who give meaning to this silly adventure of mine and thank you for sticking through my tantrums and rants. I love all of you and I hope you continue to stay by my side and support everything that I do.

If I’m in a good enough mood, I’ll upload soon. Nothing too deep, maybe another ‘Getting To Know You’ as I’ve got a lot of requests for its revival.

Have a great week ahead.

Bye Xx,

SLTD.

Petrichor.

TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual assault & violence.

The raindrops fell,

timid and seemingly anxious.

I sipped my hot chocolate as I stared out of the window at the empty street in front of my house. I always enjoyed the rain, achieved a tranquility in it that was hard to feel in our busy, metropolitan lives. The rythm of the raindrops, the gentle stream of water flowing down roofs and the peace that came from everyone staying indoors. It was nearly impossible to be free of all worries at this day and age, but when it rained, momentarily, it all stopped.

That’s when I heard it- the creak by the stairs. I lived in an apartment with my two roommates but they had both gone out. I was supposed to be all alone.

“Mike, is that you? Have you come back?” , I asked as I moved towards my dresser where I kept my pocket knife. It wasn’t much, but if there was an intruder in the house, at least I’d have some sort of protection. I took my phone out of my pocket, keeping it ready just in case I’d have to call the police. No one answered me but I was sure that I’d heard a noise.

I sat on my bed, pretending to be absorbed with my phone and then… footsteps. Almost silent, but definitely footsteps. I quickly dialed the police and whispered my location to them. It was only when I turned around that I realized. The door that led to my room was ajar.

Panicking, I ran towards the door to close it. Worst mistake I could have made. The trespasser immediately came up on me from behind the door, grabbed my arm and twisted it around, making me immobile. I struggled violently with a sudden, uncontrollable fear as I realized that his hands were slowly snaking their way through my clothes.

I felt like puking as he heavily breathed down my neck, while he told me about how he was going to use me, how there was no one to save me. I stopped struggling just as he got his knife out and started tearing off my clothes. The fight drained out of me, I was crying now. I felt helpless and utterly useless.

Why were we never taught what to do in such a situation? Why was I just always told to dress appropriately, behave appropriately? Don’t look at strangers on the road, don’t give them any incentive to come after me. I had done everything I was supposed to. And yet, after following all those rules, after all that stigma… Here I was, being raped by a man who had learnt throughout his life from experience and society that my body was his to own and abuse.

I couldn’t give up now, could I? The police were on their way, I just had to hold him off until then. I realized that he’d loosened his grip on my arm and that my pocket knife lay on the floor next to us, forgotten. I kept my eyes on his sweaty, grinning face as my hand slowly inched its way across to the penknife and got a hold of it. Under the pretext of another futile struggle I switched it into the hand that he held.

From then on, things happened quickly.

I stabbed his hand so that he let go of me and I ran. He cursed and ran after me, until he had me sandwiched between him and the wall. He charged towards me, knife in hand but I was quick. Just as he reached me, I ducked, using his momentum to divert his hand into himself.

Blood. Slippery and dark red. Shock and an adrenaline rush.

After that, it was all a blur.

Paramedics found me curled up in a corner drinking my now cold ‘hot’ chocolate. Torn, blood soaked dress and a knife in my hand that I wouldn’t let go of. And my rapist? Dead from multiple stab wounds. I would have to be taken to the station for questioning, they told me as I was led outside.

As I sat in the police car, I stared out of the window at the deserted streets.

The raindrops fell,

timid and seemingly anxious.

---

Hello everyone! Soooo, how’s everyone been this past month? Well, today marks six months( oh my God) since I started this blog so I had to upload something interesting…

I hope everyone’s well, thank you all for reading this and please leave a comment below about what you thought. Have a nice week ahead,

Bye Xx.

SLTD.

That Feeling Of Nothingness

She lay on her bed, thinking about the night before. Her younger sister was in the restroom, crying in the bath. Her parents had both disappeared. She just lay on her bed, staring at the spot on the ceiling from when she’d thrown slime and it had stuck.

She remembered that day, it was 4 years ago. A simpler time. Before the fights, before her depression, before the mental abuse. Before her father had cheated on her mother with her best friend.

Her sister, who was 7 at the time, had decided to make her own slime with glue and their father’s shaving cream. She had taken a bit of her younger sister’s “slime” and thrown it on the wall, to see it bounce back; It didn’t. It had stuck to that ceiling and they’d got into trouble. It stayed stuck there for weeks, just the opposite of this family now. It was her who found out about her father cheating. When she confronted him, he tried convincing her that they were just friends. But she had seen the texts.

Those two words were drilled into her head. Just. Friends. Her mother’s best friend was married too. She was worried about their family… Did they know yet? Should she tell them? And her mother; what about her? Sure, her mother wasn’t the easiest person to live with, but no one deserved to be cheated on. She was probably drinking herself to oblivion somewhere.

She got out of bed, went to the bath and got her sister out, took her to the kitchen, gave her a towel and started to cook. Her movements were mechanical ; without a single thought. She handed her sister a cup of her favourite hot chocolate and was making some ramen when the phone rang.

Now normally she would have been wary. After all, it was 2 in the morning. However, nothing had been according to the usual today. So she picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“No, he isn’t home. This is his daughter, may I know who you are Ma’am?”

“Oh. Okay. Thank you for informing us. My sister and I will be there soon.”

She then called her father, not really expecting him to pick up. To her surprise, he did.

“Hello,” a surly voice answered.

“It’s me. You killed our mother,” she said, her voice emotionless and then hung up.

3 miles away, her mother lay on the stretcher by the road, blood oozing out of her head, surrounded by paramedics and passer-by. Her car was nearby, having crashed into a tree.

The lady who was known as a smart, successful woman before would now only have the legacy of being a victim of drunk driving. Her mother had swerved after seeing a dog on the road, but lost control because she was drunk; at least that’s what the paramedic said. But she knew it was because her mother had finally given up fighting and had let the feeling of nothingness envelop her. The same way it was swallowing her too.

And the two girls, one 11 and the other 16 were now as good as orphans.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

So… That happened. I don’t know where the inspiration for that came from. I hope you liked it and please tell me whether I should do more like this or just stop right now cause I’m terrible at it.

Bye Xx.

SLTD.