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“No one is looking” – Nayana Nair

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This bed is too small for me
and life pouring inside me,
through the small crack in the window,
is not enough to hold me here.
I hear the names of people
whom I will never meet or know.
No one is looking for me
just as I wanted.
But still it makes me sad
to be forgotten so easily.

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“Loose Words” – Nayana Nair

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The words once written with passion

once written with anger,

sometimes filled with sweet drops of sadness

and sometimes with happiness that

made cracks in our masks.

All those words have broken down

have become loose and weak.

Those words are not our love.

Those words are our lives.

Our love is the ruled lines on paper

on which rested our broken lives,

on which rested our tested faith.

 

“The day we held hands” – Nayana Nair

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The silence wrapping our words
was not born out of a deed or two.
Or out of lack of love.
We didn’t wake up one day
and began feeling alone.
the day we held hands
We felt the alienation
that only love can bring.
No great love can
change what we were.
Where the plains of our own
lives and its insecurities met
there we see a crack,
to remind us everyday
that we never fit with each other.

“Hate You” – Nayana Nair

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I saw you

soft as the clouds of heaven.

I felt you

covered in the condensed drops

of love that the whole world breathes out.

And I hated you for it.

I saw your skin marked with me.

I saw the cracks in your smile

covered in my kisses.

I saw my reflection in your heart

that was made for my thirst.

I saw my heart.

I saw what hid there.

I saw the storm that never calms.

I saw the storm that never calms.

I saw the poison that has no color.

I saw your eyes become the clouds,

I saw it rain.

I saw you tremble as earthquake

that tries to contain itself.

I saw you make your home

in my storm.

And I hated you for that.

“Weather” – Nayana Nair

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There are footsteps
drawn in rainwater
that float on the floor
that was once firm and solid
but now cracks under my every step.
The rain and storm
must have brought him here.
The never improving
weather of his heart.
Did he find what he came for?
How long he must have stood here?
Was it still raining when he left?

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