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“Does it make sense” – Nayana Nair

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I have waited and dreaded this moment
where all my memories come rushing back in
and all my sins outweigh the suffering I had
and nothing I could tell myself
will absolve me from my crimes.
I can look back and say
“I was immature and I didn’t know enough.”
But is that enough?
But is that a valid reason?
Can any reason
validate the pain that continues to grow
in the chest of other
while my own brain is busy burying facts
that puts me in a bad light?
How can I talk like this
as if I am the one suffering?
But if I look back one more time
I am afraid I can never move forward.
Does it make sense that still I think of myself?
What kind of repentance is this?
Does it make sense for me to cry?

“In my care” – Nayana Nair

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How unfortunate
that your dream had to be about me.
That you placed all the pieces left of you
in that dream
and placed it in my care.
If only you had seen the cracked edges of mine
that were going to become your future.
If only I had known my incapability
to love or be loved.
I would not have to see your tears.
I would not have to ache this bad.
Why have you become the book I pick up every now and then,
but never have the courage to finish nor to give up.

“Endless Screech” – Nayana Nair

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It has been long since
I saw your face for what it was.
Now the ends of your lips droops
and your words stings and
your action have become
the endless screech of a madman.
I didn’t want to spare my words
to remind you of your change.
I didn’t want to forgive you for the nights
there was nothing but your shout and your anger
bouncing around in my head
and in this house.
I want you to know how badly
you have ruined yourself.
But you are not there in that body
and I am playing pretend of a family
with the whatever has been left behind.

“Flaw of my Heart” – Nayana Nair

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Though I hate to admit it,
I have known more happiness
than I should.
And the days of sorrow that I talk about
were not as bad as I write.
The flaw of my heart
was always being too expectant,
of overestimating my worth in the schemes of life.
Believing that the tales I read
were written for me.
But knowing all this
there is only way to live my life
that I know of.
I guess sometimes
it is easier to relive the nightmares,
to live in the smaller eternities of pain,
than to wander in this fog
not knowing what to look for.

“Tears are not the bad part” – Nayana Nair

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The grass was not green,
the sky was not blue,
and the weather
far from perfect.
But wherever in life I’ve been,
to whomever I was true,
I am reminded of all of it
so I sat and wept.
And tears are not the bad part,
they will dry and be gone.
It’s the days when I can’t cry,
that I doubt, maybe my heart
has turned to stone,
with pain forever inside.

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