Here in this night glowing with memories
placed as substitute of light in the face of storm,
I sit with all the words my body clung to
in spite of its bare, aging and passing spring.
I scratch out all the definitions of what I am
from the paper that seemed to once shine
and reflect an image that could have been me,
if only I didn’t have to live till this day
to realize what a mirror really is
and how painful it is to look into one.
Now when I write down new rules and new directions for myself,
I envision another day in future
when again I will have to strip myself
of all I believe to be true.
And knowing that a day like that exists ahead of me
makes me look at myself with certain pride
for trying again and again.
The life that runs ahead of me
and the one that I take and drag behind
all center around the habits and frienships
built for the conveniences
of a sorrow that I cannot date.
A shadow moves in the clearing ahead
avoiding the columns of lighted air.
It steps on the green
now splattered with red
and looks for a hand that can help,
to get rid of this blood.
It finds my face and looks away
seeing probably I am in a bigger mess.
I want to be the shiver
that runs through your body,
when you think of the one you love.
There are far more easier things
to say, to want
but they loose their meaning
as they make their way to my mouth.
As the days with you
I find there are more ways of loving you
that the ways I did.
I find there are countless days ahead
days without me
and my absence has less to do with loss of love
and more with the cruelty of life
and nature of my soul.
How lonely it is to walk alone
even if I walk with you.
How easy it would be to accept this
if only I could become a part of you.
If I would wake up one day
and realise that I am
just one of the many voices in your head.
I think it would be easier to justify this loneliness
if we both are but one.
To know that we can never be separated.
How beautiful it would be, to become your love itself
rather than someone you love.