The home I had in me for you stood in silence at the the slow curve of every approaching road, it stood with hope facing the ocean of molten cold dead ends. It was a beautiful place really, a place where sleep hunted for eyes, if only for some consolation, if only to feel alive. A place of hollow abundance, where one could only pray for a bit of loneliness as relief. Morning dreams of lace and scissors, the shade of some long lost sorrow, the memory of rain always remaining on the clothes, the sunlight forever imprinted on your chest, the light of the-world-lost always clawing its way to the dead center of your heart. It was the world of bleeding fabric, lying on skin like a pet waiting for a tamed life. It wasn’t really much of a home, there really wasn’t much space there left – for life, for you, or even my changed love-filled self to survive.
Across this glass, across the tired melting clouds of mist, on the other side there are trees and homes and forests that are just like places on this side that I rest.
The places where I am not look as sad as all the places I have been. Everywhere, on every road there is always a person who knows a way to break my heart, and I always end up thanking them for it.
There are rooms where I put up lights and posters and curtains and lovers and music, those are the rooms I want to die in- with some beauty, with some consolation of meaning .
But always I find the reason for my end outside these walls. Those reasons live under the brightest light on the darkest road. And because I was told that the light that I don’t know of is the one that saves all, even the hopeless ones like me. So my legs forget how to stop, my hands forget how to let go, and my blood glitters for a moment under the light of lost hopes before it turns black, before it invites in the cold that I always thought belonged to the inanimate world.
I think of the room I won’t reach, and the songs and the faces and this world that I will not be given a piece of, to keep.
As the sky fills me up, pats me down, and tucks me in the snow across the white, I feel someone stir from sleep. The wail that my throat cannot make, finds a home in that other world, in the other me that unlike me knows how to cry and how to be loved for it.
i try to sleep, to forget the pain near my spine, to forget all the hours in front of me that i have no use of. i look at my palm from near and from as far as my hands can extend. i notice how my hands have changed. do i like it better now? i wonder if it possible to like anything about my body now. i remember once deciding not to at least hate this skin that has use for everyone but not to me. i remember saying “as long as it makes you happy” at the same time thinking “i don’t think you care for my happiness”. i stop myself from finding more things that make me confused or miserable. i unlock my phone. it’s 8 already- more and more notifications, …5GB extra..Alert:You have spent… …has added a new post…added a new story airplane mode, the notifications continue to pile up in my head- all the words that i will never get to see that i always expected even when i knew i shouldn’t, it has been long……sorry, for making you feel alone… today i saw something and was reminded of you. even though we are not together, it is not your fault… thank you for being there for me……it must have been tough… don’t hurt yourself i feel smaller knowing that even the words i want are only words of consolation, just confirmation that i am not the worst. i look at my hands again and wonder if my hatred for myself colors my skin. is that how everyone gets know that i don’t have the courage to ask for fair, for loyalty, for answers? is that how i look? someone who doesn’t have the voice to ask anything anymore.
The lines are drawn. The teams have been split. Now I must show loyalty only to “my kind”. Now I must learn by heart the roads that I am not allowed to take. Your heart probably lies on one of those roads. That’s probably the reason, why my feet won’t walk in your direction.
What is it like to live in the better half of the world? My limited imagination sees you as only you and that’s why I know that I am going to be hurt badly. A friend tells me with sadness, “staying away would be kinder love”. He plays me a beautiful tune, a melody to replace you, a consolation of sorts, a very poor (though thoughtful) consolation.
The sun is a quadrant setting only on my half of world, although no one has yet tried to split this moon. How fortunate are we to share at least this sorrow, at least the night. On every night sky you are my hope written in neon. Every morning, you are a dream that I force myself to forget. But no words, no consolation can make me forget you.
Today, you are more beautiful that I remember you to be.
Today, I feel we are almost invincible.
It is funny to say out loud this word “invincible”,
when life proves again and again
how it is just another consolation to our mind,
a fence to fend off the reality.
So that we might know of happiness
without being burdened by the dark screen of the approaching end.
But today I am ready to put up these fences that I do not believe in,
if it could me help me create a better memory of what life was.
Maybe I can learn to be blind in a different way,
that what I have been till now.
for this day
you see in me the the love that you always looked for.
I hope you remember me this way
even when this brightness, this happiness
and these fences fade away from the landscape of our lives.