coconut-chutney

The first time you took off your clothes in front of me, you slid the white fabric of your blouse off your arms and revealed the pale ladders of scars. You never referenced them directly. You said you were lost, once. You said you did things, once, and you did them because they helped you survive yourself. I didn't say anything, but you took my hand and pressed it to the ridged rows of your flesh and for every line you left upon yourself and healed, I found another reason to call you beautiful.

I think you keep secrets under your skin like trees keep rings and do not know it, like the sea teems, like dark and quiet space keeps every ray of light the stars whispered to one another when they were still young and dying to make love. I think you keep secrets in you like the desert keeps sands, like sleep keeps dreams, like cities keep sleepless people and people looking for sleepless people to fall asleep with. I think you keep secrets like secrets like to be kept, and I want to learn them all.

For the longest time I have admired heroes. I imagined them to be people of change, people who would bring the world forward and take us to even greater heights. It was then however, that I realised the 'Human Obstacle'. Humans as I discovered, perhaps in the most painful of ways, are rather unintelligent beings. They are driven by their core instincts no matter how much they wish to deny it. And the only difference between one and the next is how deeply they let those instincts consume them. If you walk out into the streets, you can see the well-adjusted average man. Yet in his mind he is not considering the good he could do with his life,

“S-Sirius, why is it so cold?” You asked, teeth lightly chattering as goose bumps spread across your skin. “Dunno.” He answered, when in reality it was freezing in the large house because he had cast a spell, wanting an excuse to hold you in his arms. He gazed at you, amusement sparkling in his grey eyes before he smiled, standing up and tossing a few more logs into the fire, in front of which you were both currently sitting. Sirius returned after a moment, sinking to the floor and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling your body closer to his. You cuddled into him, grateful for the warmth, and Sirius had to

"Sirius!” You throw open the front door and run out after your boyfriend, running after him to follow him down the street. “Come back, please! You’re overreacting!” “Am I, (Y/N)?” He stopped walking and turned to face you, his hair wild and his eyes sad. Your lips formed a line, and you nodded. “Yes,” you said firmly, walking closer to him. You just wanted to get this stupid fight past you. It was your fourth this week, and it seemed this time, it was getting out of hand. Sirius had never stormed out before. You were worried this would be the one that ended it all. “It really isn’t

Dear Stranger, I'm leaving this post-it tucked in the side of the train-seat. If you're reading this, you've seen it. I've seen you sit here every few Monday mornings, sometimes tapping a bent, unlit cigarette against your thigh, sipping from your tea (who brings a tea cup onto a train anyway?); sometimes staring at the rain outside, or reading your well-worn, beaten copy of Jane Eyre (I hate that you fold the corners down - it's bibliophilic abuse. I wish the book would papercut you to defend itself a little, but I digress). You seemed so sad this Monday morning past. Please smile again. I love it when your eyes catch the light of something

     Chapter One: Finding a Seat     Rose, Albus, and James waved their final farewell as the train pulled away from the station. They all watched as their parent’s faces were swallowed by the smoke that filled the air as the train pulled farther and farther away. Finally, platform nine-and-three-quarters was no longer visible from the train window. The three children looked at each other anxiously. “Well?” James said, “ Shall we?”     The three friends started down the isle to find a compartment. James was able to find a compartment with ease. “Dan!” he cried happily, “How was your summer?” J

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to take your hand in mine and like a couple of idiots, run through the heavy traffic and pouring rain, and keep at it till our feet resign. We'd find a tree with branches wide enough with leaves broad or plentiful enough to take shelter under, and there, you'd place your head on my lap as I'd sing you my favorite love song. The song I'd always wanted you to sing to me. If only I hadn't found out the hard way that your feelings for me are but as thin as an onion's skin and that I could never accept and bow down to no matter how suave your courting style may be. If only I was stupider than what I really am- mayb