“Midnight Call” – Nayana Nair

There is somewhat
a hesitancy in me
to I pick up the call
at midnight.
The ring sounds different.
It has a shaky sound
immitating the hands
that must be struggling to hold
phone in the very hand
through which countries of stories
have slipped into darkness.
Leaving behind
this person
who must feel like a character
who has lost his story.
And I am afraid
I can’t offer him
the words that can build up his life back,
that can calm his chaotic breathing,
and shuddering heart.
I can’t do it.
Because I was once on the other side
and my hands are still shaking.
I turn around in my bed all night
trying to reassure the only heart
that I can heal.