RSS Feed

Tag Archives: bury

“I let him drive” – Nayana Nair

I roll down my window
hoping for the first time
that I knew how to drive
so that I wouldn’t have a confused witness
to my impulse of moving forward by a mile
and falling down by a heartbeat.

“Is everything alright?”,
he asks me too often.
I don’t bother to calm him down by saying ‘yes’
as I was doing an hour ago.
Nothing I say can now convince him of my normality.
So I let him drive and let myself collapse.
I bury my face in my lap
and breathe better by suffocating myself a little bit more.

He hums a song that reminds me of the love
that now lives in a country I have not seen
in a life that I will always guess inaccurately
with a girl who has a serious case of klemptomania.
Last time I called the stolen one,
I was given a sorry and an address of a better therapist.

I let my ring burn my heart.
I ask the driver to leave me somewhere no one can find me
knowing he will not, he will take me home
just like he doesn’t everyday,
and he will make sure to greet me
with a kind forgetfulness the next morning.

I wish I had kept more strangers like him in my life,
someone who would worry about me.

“Dissociate” – Nayana Nair

my other head
bleeds and falls off
as does my bloody knife

i can no longer call myself a victim of life
now that my sin is set in stone

few more hours for the sun to rise
few more hours i must bear the company of my face
in few more hours the world will love me
now that i look like them and kill like them
they will surely love me
for having one less brain and one less mouth

my eyes look back at me
not accusingly but with pity
of what have i done to myself
but i dare not cry
and act as if i am the one being wronged
my tears- i’ll be burying them under the red petunias
that you loved

my hearts beats furiously
as if running towards something, perhaps an end
end of me? end of her?
it feels wrong saying “her”, “you”
as if a knife is all it takes to set things conveniently wrong

i close the door and leave my open mouth
and questioning eyes on the kitchen table
i break a nail and break my heart
as i dig two graves for myself

“she must have been as lovely as you once were” – Nayana Nair

i happened to find a picture of yours
a blue ocean engulfing two shadows

it must have killed you
to have come back alone

to sit and imagine what she could lived like
if you were the one lost and buried in the sea

even though you are wretched and she is gone
but it is because you held her hand too tight

that you still feel her hand
slipping from yours every night

“notes to myself/words i never follow” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

travel light
and don’t get your heart broken
no matter what you are promised in return.

don’t try to make another’s skin yours.
the cold won’t kill you, but the search of warmth will.

you may cry, cry, and cry.
you may think you will cry for an eternity.
but sleep will still find your exhausted eyes
and you will learn to dream somehow.
but do not have the same dream again.

do not seek forgiveness
for what you have done to yourself.
seek a doctor, seek a friend,
seek a way to live,
seek a way to see yourself as victim also
even if it crushes your pride.

bury your heart
only in your own chest.

“Stack of Books from Strangers” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

Now everything tastes like my oft-repeated past.
This bitter turn of events
has brought new meaning to my pain that I didn’t ask for.
This morning I even look like someone who needs help.

I guess I may have looked that way for a long time
in everyone’s eyes but mine.
In my eyes, I was doing better,
good enough to be not noticed and singled out.

I smiled enough to keep people from seeing
all the mess I carried in me.
But lately, strangers hand me books
to keep my sad mind busy.

Books that tell me
that it is not too late, that one at a time
I can make something out of the soil that won’t leave my skin,
the soil that I am buried under.

I want to believe in this nonsense more than anyone can imagine.
But my heart is not the same now
as it was years ago.
It no longer believes the words that feel good and hurt later.

“Same Mirror” – Nayana Nair

Even though we know
we will end up being disappointed in ourselves
we still want find that same mirror
again and again,
expecting to see something different.
Hoping that it will work out one day.
Hoping one day our faults
would be too insignificant to matter.
Relying on the surety
of the forgetfulness of the world
than the forgiveness that we couldn’t dare to ask.

-oOo-

But even if the world forgets,
even if our skin grows anew,
even if our sins become untraceable,
these eyes of ours
remain the same,
always lingering on the spot
where we have buried our past.
Passing of time does nothing to reduce our fear
of being seen for what we are.
Even when that image of what we were
exists nowhere in this world,
it is the only way we can ever see ourselves.

“Approaching Night” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

tumblr_oss02qbM3d1v94moho5_1280

The light that drips from your skin
feels like sunlight frozen.
As you float among the spirits
of far away desolate planets,
who have found home in you,
who like me have found you too full of life.
You walk to me,
hold me close and bury your fire
in my heart. The mountain and the sea
that belong to you,
have erased the life
that I’ve lived before.

beautiful-boy-cute-flowers-Favim.com-4109452

On the path lined with trees-
their shade and your joys
becoming just memories with approaching night.
You walk to me,
you hold me close and bury your face
your regrets, your tears in my skin
and give me a moment of the future I can never have.
And soon I see you dissolve in the sea foam,
in the waters where we were born.
I find my hands filled with your share of happiness
and sky filled with flowers that once grew in your hands.

bardtke.net

Just another daily photo blog by Christoph Bardtke

Lire dit-elle

L'oreille du taureau à la fenêtre De la maison sauvage où le soleil blessé Un soleil intérieur de terre Tentures du réveil les parois de la chambre Ont vaincu le sommeil Paul Eluard

Tylko fotografia

czyli kilka słów i przemyśleń z fotografią w tle

The Grand Narrative

Korean Feminism, Sexuality, Popular Culture

Blaze of Obscurity

“The swallow that hibernates underwater is a creature called yearning.” David Quammen

cartifaine

Taraba cartilor de altadata. Nerecomandat minorilor

EPOCHE' (fotoblog di francesco)

"Io non dischiudo nè nascondo ma al contrario faccio vedere" (Eraclito)

rabirius

photography and other things

cnw

the portfolio - in progress

... on being and becoming ...

... mobius faith imaging ...

Falderal

Zomaar wat

Wish I Were Here

Journeys Through Place and Time

Karine Leroux Photography

Minimalism - Textures - Abstraction

Richard Broom Photography

Photographs, Video and Stuff

TSF-Photos-Cartoons

Photography and cartoons, my favorite things.

Le Drake Noir

Andrikken

natinkadrawstheline

Gezeichnetes, Gemaltes, Geschriebenes