The Silence in the Black and White

The piercing ache shoots from my legs

and gnaws upwards,

like a million buckets of ice covering every inch of my skin

to a point I don’t know if I’m cold or burning.


Your hands were what saved me, although I will deny it

Your touch was what made me feel human, although I will deny it


Meaningless dreams are the place we meet now

without the anchor of your vow

of forever


Silent dreams are where I see you now

because I can feel the drug leave my body

and if I hear your voice, I know I will relapse


I don’t look at the pictures anymore

I have lost my strength and crumbled

I don’t think of the happy times anymore

because I know I will fall and stumble


But this hollow ache

this blankness behind my mask

these screams in my chest

these cuts on my arms

won’t stop haunting me.


Yet I cannot stop dreaming in monochrome.


© That Girl in the Fray, 2018.  All rights reserved.



Some days I wish I could talk into voids,

because I cannot tolerate the echoes.


Some days I wonder to myself in the silence

if tears cured acne

or mended masticated souls

in ventilated bodies.


The empty spaces are now a haven for the vermin.

But shouldn’t any creature who comes here


for there is but barrenness beyond the yearning

of the days of warmth of years ago?


Is it the remains of the flesh festering the parasites

to renew the old?

Or is it that life itself remains in grains of hope?


And all this time, I was wrong?


© That Girl in the Fray, 2018.  All rights reserved.


I let the wind ripple through the curtains,

I wanted to be sure it existed.

I let the rain soak me to the bone,

I needed proof to comprehend it.

I let the flames melt my skin,

I wanted to confirm that fire wounded.

Now, I hold my breath,

Wishing that heaven is real.


I caressed the printed words of a clichéd novel,

I wanted to feel something as fragile as paper cut.

I travelled away from home,

I wanted to run till the city lights lost in dusky slumber.

I gave my food away,

I did anything not to feel so numb.


I didn’t find anything that was promised.

Where is the Second Coming predicted by Yates?

When will Lady Lazarus rise from the ashes?

I stare at paper thin walls because I’ve looked into the sun for too long

I embrace the stones on barren land because I’ve walked on grass forlorn

All this time, I hold my breath waiting for heaven to be real.


© That Girl in the Fray, 2017. All rights reserved.


Make space in your soul for what lies ahead, they say.

Forget your memories, forget your pain, forget that heart frozen in the blinding rain, they say.

The only way I know how is to let the salt flow, let the heart see, let the eyes know.


My tears follow Newton’s third law: they snake down my scorched cheeks but let my soul soar.


My tears let me know I’m not as numb as I thought I was, that chloroform and walls haven’t made a zombie of me yet.


I feel; I’m sure of it now.

I breathe; I didn’t think I did for a while but the gasping makes me sure of it somehow.

Lying there behind my eyes an inch away from blinding laughter.

Lurking there an inch away from the cracks, the crashes, the disaster.

Falling in the wake of pride,

Falling in the shape of non deserving strides.


They are mine, the tears, the pain, the memories, the salt.

The ability to start the waterfall, the ability to anchor a halt.


You have no right over it, no claim; you cannot demand them.

The sweetness of liberation is mine and only mine.


© That Girl in the Fray, 2017. All rights reserved.



Years From Then

Years from then is now my now

and I still pathetically find myself looking for your approval.

I still am utterly conscious of you in this crowded room, sitting right in front of me.

I pull my chair away so as not be as close enough to you to smell your cologne

I avoid looking into your eyes as much as I can

It is all but an utter failure.

I know it’s a trick of my brain, that I do not feel anything towards you anymore. In fact, I hate the way you talk about things, that immature daftness about you that I failed to spot before. You’re utterly opinionated and narcissistic, else who would even have their own picture on their phone screen? Me, I could never do that because I cannot stand to see my face so often and rather see something beautiful and inspiring.

You hate everything about me

You mock anything I say or do

Any big achievement of mine is a joke to you

And every time you ask me something unprecedented, something beyond the imagined conversions in my mind that I’ve had with you, I’m speechless

and then I say the dumbest thing imaginable possible.

I cannot but be awkward before you

It infuriates me to look at the mess I am before you

I’m still as vulnerable as I was then

All my promises to be poised and graceful are broken.

I wished I’d never known you.

In the most beautiful place imaginable, living the dream I had dreamed for myself, all I can think about is what you think of me. Have I impressed you enough? What else can I do to prove that I am beyond you, that you and me are never possible, more to myself than to you.

But you.



© That Girl in the Fray, 2016. All rights reserved.


I close my eyes and I see the truth

I see the color of my soul

suffocating blackness

I see the filth in my words and deeds

I see the layers of tar embedding every inch of my heart,

gulping every inch of blood, muscle, vein

I see the destruction I’ve caused, the ruin, the blasphemy

I see the venom I’ve spewed,

gurgling thick black bubbling muck out of my tongue and teeth

I see the lace of needles and nails I’ve tied around the delicate ankles of every life I’ve touched

I see the thorned grapevine I’ve wrung around their necks, layer by layer

round, round, round, round round

till the last breath choked out of their pale blue-purple pulped bodies

and I’ve smiled,

smiled I have for it has satiated the rakshasa that dwells within me

and glowered in the rotting smell of piles and piles

I have seen the tar embedding my black heart