behindthenotes

[behindthenotes]

AN ARTIST AND HIS MUSE

She encaptured every thought of his; day and night, her pure innocence hazing his mind. His intentions was like the plague; black murky goo dribbling, ever so elegantly and precise. Her nature enticed him like a moth drawn to a flame. The exposed stretch of her neck and the full pout of her lips was all he remembered. She was angelic; never been corrupted by sins, that he almost felt shameful to gaze, even more fearful to trace her skin. Just almost.

He hesitated to give into the lure of her taste, but has she ever been this close? So close he can count the moles littered in her face. Oh, how he wished to trail his fingers along them; a newfound constellation that he was sure he favored. His gaze travels to the hand reaching out; so desperate to feel the heat of her flesh against his fingers, only to meet the livid traces of paint. The flamboyant array mocking his pathetic state. Dreadfully he glanced at her frame, perfectly still, he almost believed that she was a portrait. Nonetheless, she was; a gruesomly alluring portrait incomplete.

Around her, the silence engulfed, broken by the echo the slip of the paintbrush caused. In auguish, his fingers trace along the canvas; lush, bright green ruined by tainted black ink. The disharmony of colours nudging him back to his state; a reminder of the unavoidable illness he tormented within. An abysmal sin carried like a medal around his neck, only for it to annihilate him like a ticking bomb to be set. It blazed his corse akin to her portrait his peculiarity poisoned, alas, dissolving his distressed essence to ash. Only remains of the humorous joke of irony survived; the striking art ruined by the psychedelic artist himself.

- Sanainara

[behindthenotes]

Changes

The priorities shifted from meetups with friends to achieving in my career.

The small in-between breaks changed from books, music, and writing to completing chores, making an effort to still hold onto that one friendship, and barely having time to sleep and feel the satisfaction of my simple pleasures.

The perspective of who I cared for switched between the underlying expectations, blocking out reality until I saw the truth; people change and it stings more than salt in a wound.

The pointless argument with mum, defending myself on useless mistakes turned into opinions I agree to now.

The times I wish to spend with my companions have reversed, now I wish I spent it with my family.

Disagreements went from self-centered narrow thinking to logical acceptance and reflection.

Memories went places; from loud crowds, gossip, and songs and cringe dance to quiet meals, genuine laughs, and vulnerably shared discussions.

From caring so much it drains me to accepting their wrongdoings in exhaustion.

From blocking out my utmost capability because of a failure to open the door for long-lost hobbies.

Went from broken relationships, and unstable mental health to accepting and understanding the limitless insight into life.

I've crossed the paths of childish egoism and envy and I've yet to cross many paths of wisdom but I've matured through each pain; I will heal after each pain.

[behindthenotes]

Do you know what I want to do? I want to write a monologue about how perfect yet how a few pieces of you is broken. Explain how those broken pieces make you beautiful. Dictate how amazingly charming you can be if you like someone and how exquisitely likeable you just come to be but nonetheless, somehow you manage to lock your true self. Have you dealt with betrayal and disloyalty, dear? I want to elucidate through poems how crucial you are in my life and how this friendship turned out to be something entirely different yet unique; understanding yet complicated; mesmerizing yet flawed. I want to go to places with you, sing to old music and let our careless souls and restless feet dance away the night. I want to make memories, I want to make promises, I want to believe and trust, especially I want to fall in love. With life and with you because no matter what they say or do, I suppose we are true. I might be wrong; nothing's known but I hope this, what we have; those bits and pieces linger until my spirit's satisfied that even it's for a mere second, I'm meant to be yours and you, mine.

[behindthenotes]

The Journey Of Love

Falling in love is like learning to fly,

Almost impossible but you still try; fail to when it's broken on one side.

Falling in love feels breathtaking,

Like witnessing the first ray of golden in the sky.

Falling in love can be difficult,

Imagine a ten-mile marathon with starving coyotes chasing behind.

Falling in love is like a rollercoaster ride,

Everything seems fine as it goes up, but as you fall;

Your heart plunges into a mysterious thick aura of desire and agony, both at the same time.

An emotion you can't describe.

Falling in love is scary,

You fear rejection and misery, so you dig a grave for the memories to lie.

When you're in love, how can you fall out of it?

Is it the distance? Or the trust? Or the lack of confidence?

Falling out of love is that gut-wrenching guilt that tears you apart,

A pain that reminds you could've tried harder.

That empty feeling that you don't admit, but you crave desperately for closure.

If falling out of love, it's quite hard to convince yourself,

That things can be fixed at the verge but it's painful when it's a broken heart.

And this is the journey of love,

Sometimes it works; sometimes not,

But it's said to be the most thrilling above all.

[behindthenotes]

What keeps you awake at night?

What keeps you awake at night?

Is it the things you could've done right?

Or the mild whispering that you assume in your mind,

Perhaps, the darkness that provokes you blind.

Do you fear someone lurks under your bed?

Or is it something that hides within the walls?

Have you called it with your deep slumber?

Can it watch you till sunrise?

Is it just all in your head?

Is the silence too much to bear?

The tiniest noise that echoes convincing you someone's there.

Is it the thoughts that keep you up all night?

You might try closing your eyes but only see white.

Now, that the clock strikes three;

Tell me, what is it that keeps disagreeing with your sanity?

Go ahead but don't deny;

I warned you about what keeps you awake at night.

- Sana Inara

[behindthenotes]

Insomnia

How many cold rainy nights do I have to stay awake?

Before I stop begging my mind to let me rest.

I close my eyes and try to find the desperate sleep I lack;

I wonder if I could hide in my mother's arms,

Like a cocoon finds her nest.

I block the voices echoing in my mind,

With a slow song like Beethoven's kind.

I stare at the pale painted ceiling just like the other numerous nights,

The soft notes of the piano should have drugged my mind to ease and made me fall asleep.

No! It couldn't be that easy.

So, I lay there, awake again, letting myself reflect on my past;

Till I mourn for myself I have lost.

'What a routine to normalize,' I thought.

- Sana Inara

[behindthenotes]

The way her teary eyes lit up when I walked inside the room,

Followed by a breathtaking smile soon;

Though needles and tubes held her in place,

She wrestles her way to grab my hand;

A warm, comforting touch is all it takes,

For me to grasp her love like quicksand.

Though she'd be in pain, her care is never less;

For she is one of a kind, especially with her gentle caress.

Some days I'd ignore her ways to strike a chat,

Now, I hear her voice inside my head but it's just my imagination.

Most days she'd keep me busy with her calls,

Now, all the tasks have come to a stall.

She had loved me with every ounce of her soul,

Being a compassionate person was always her goal.

I hate to let you go, dear, but you've endured a lot;

Now, your room stands noiseless, only mourns and tears fall.

- Sana Inara

A heart aching farewell to my late grandma. Grandma, you were so special, you were so loved, you were kind to anyone and everyone and people admire that. You, grandma, were one of a kind. This was unexpected and I hate every second I admit I won't be able to see you again. I miss your hugs, kisses, your gentle caress, and your comforting words. I love you a lot and miss you so much, grandma. You will be at peace. Say hello to grandpa for me.

[behindthenotes]

Depression.

In perseverance of perfection.

Suicide.

Since everything in your mind collides.

'Past is past,' they say.

But what if it haunts you every hour that you gradually lose indignity for yourself?

Guilt.

Losing all the confidence you built.

Anxiety.

Lost the feeling of fitting into society.

'Even the slightest of hope, hold onto it.'

Still trying to cope up with pessimist inside me.

Grief.

Harder to keep a grip on belief.

Thoughts.

They constantly attach like unwanted knots.

'It'll be fine, ' they console.

In the end, those are the ones who let go of hope.

- Sana Inara

I'd like to spread awareness on this awfully sensitive topic which is not taken under seriousness. Many people, especially our youth in this generation face depression and suffer from anxiety but are too hesitant to speak about it aloud. Make sure your loved ones or your neighbour, classmate literally anyone are okay. Act as a support when they need someone to talk to and show them the affection and attention they deserve.❤

[behindthenotes]

Just Glance At The Mirror

Just glance at the mirror, Though it feels like a terror. Admire the rolls of flesh, Imperfections that you should bless. Be free to let the sweet chuckles flow, Don't hide the smile that makes you glow. Be bold to speak with your eyes, For those are the ones that can blind the sun. Their fingers pointing meant to make you teary, But scars are just indicated to tell your story. Marks of shades, they blame the flesh. Where do you think the past nine months left? A pipe wrapped to the nostrils, Pumping oxygen to escape death. An exposed hairless surface, Yet you expect under your breath. The gorgeous tan skin; glowing brighter than tin. The natural red-spotted freckles across her face, Overpowering the scars of acne and disorders. Yet find a way to judge in some case. Slowly crumbling, living up to the voices; The embarrassing comments that alter your true self. Ignore them for once and just glance at the mirror, Aim you won't feel any terror. - Sana Inara

[behindthenotes]

Criticism. Terrorism. Racism.

The rage and fear we have, brought us to our knees,

But are we in the society of actual realities?

Our hells of fire made us admire,

The truth which is sugar- coated with the fib.

Why do we have battles?

If we all exist in the same land.

Why do we wander for dominance?

Like cattle trapped in a bizarre fence.

It’s not them to blame.

Together, we can change our raging flame.

                                - Sana Inara

[behindthenotes]

Mothers

She was born as a princess, and grew up like one. She took the last name, and kept happiness as her aim! Nine months in her tummy, then she was called mummy!

Her love is like a filament, it doesn't melt! Her trust is like an electric spark, it is even felt! She's our first friend, our best friend, And we love you mothers till the end!

                             - Sana Inara

[behindthenotes]

[behindthenotes]

MIRROR

Why do people fear to look into the mirror? But not when a door is agar on it's own. Your reflection holds your future, Good or bad, the choice is left to you. Most see only the outside beauty, Is the inner buried deep? Let the ethics you learn seep into your soul. Then, the next time you look into your reflection, You will not fear but see your future appear.

- Sana Inara

[behindthenotes]

Don’t worry if it didn’t work out, your soul will only attach to the right one.

[behindthenotes]

The Cry of the Poor

Can't you hear them cry?

Don't you fear and hide?

They're just like you too, two- legged and two- armed.

Some might have one, some might have none,

Yet we all worship the morning sun!

Eyes filled with tears,

Their hearts are so clear.

If they lose one, they lose it all,

Cause the family they made,

Were the ones they found in the streets everyday!

Young or old, they're still pure gold!

With no shelter from the cold,

And no food in their home.

With a heavy heart and empty stomach,

They go on with their life.

They can't help but be born this way,

But it's not too late, to change their fate!

- Sana Inara