“PLAYGROUNDS”-Nayana Nair

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The breaths not taken are accumulating.

It mixes with the tears not shed.

Creates a poison that lingers in my thought

but doesn’t flow into my blood.

To keep me barely alive to suffer.

Suffer from a poison of my own making.

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Slowly I forget

one small detail at a time.

I realize it only when I see this gap in memory

that my frail imagination fails to fill.

Words are slipping out of my hands.

My thoughts are no longer mine.

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All the parks have become graveyards.

Where tomorrow died a slow, slow death.

And it slips into an even slower decay.

“A LOT LIKE RUNNING”- Nayana Nair

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Boarding that midnight bus

seemed a lot like running.

Just faster and easier.

Less painful for legs and lungs.

Less real than wind on my face

and ground beneath my feet.

It’s just sitting here in comfort

and counting seconds, minutes, days and breaths left.

It’s just looking out,

and knowing a secret.

A secret only my eyes

and occasionally my ears know.

That we are so moving so much faster

without moving an inch.

Like we have changed so much,

without realizing it.