“What a hopeless sadness have I ended up facing in her love for truth”- Nayana Nair

.

How false this all is.
Let’s imagine something truer.
Something true like returning to the pain.
I imagined another world devoid of distant fires.
A room filled with moonlight and sorrow.
Here I heard myself speak of the pain
that I cannot forget, that I cannot stop to seek.
I heard myself stupidly ramble about
the cold settled in my stomach, the snow
that had no winter to name as its mother,
how I tried to seek another face
that could make looking at my own bearable,
how I broke everything but me
because that was the only way to really hurt myself.
I heard her cry.
I asked her again and again
how much more truer should my pain be
for her love to become real,
for my love to count.
But I only heard her cry.

4 Comments

  1. kittysverses says:

    A lovely evocative read. 🙂

    1. Nayana Nair says:

      Really glad that you liked it dear 🙂 Thanks a lot 🙂

  2. I like the way the searching evolves yet never truly seems to give an answer. I do read all your work but seem to find less time to comment these days. Life promises to be less hectic for the next few months though.

    1. Nayana Nair says:

      I feel that so much of life is about realizing all the perspectives of looking at the same conditions and asking different questions that our voices are not even used to and not really about an absolute answer. The questions though painful continue to be beautiful in their own way.
      Really glad that you liked my work. And thank you so much for paying attention to my work. That in itself is precious to me. I understand how hectic life can be. Hope you get time to rest.

      Have a beautiful day. 🙂

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