Let me crib.
Let me complain
and let me regret it,
and say again and again
that I never meant a word that you found mean.
I am unusually irresponsible.
I have a ledger
filled with all that I must truly care for.
I only forget to look at it
and act on it.
Even if I am not actually a cold person
I won’t mind it if you describe me so.
I will brush it off
and probably fashion a passive-hatred for you
from all that I act doesn’t bother me.
When it all gets out of my head
and burns your heart,
I will let you crib.
I will let you complain.
and when you say again and again
that you never meant a word that I found mean,
I will believe you.
I hope that will be enough for us to last
longer that the time we could ever predict
if we let each other be mean sometimes, get hurt,
create a drama and forget it when it’s the other’s
turn to loose the mess in mind.
There are so many things
that I can’t be bothered with,
all the things I must do eventually.
I hope it is same for you.
Because all the time I have created,
all the cares I have swept under the rug
I plan to waste with you.
I hope you are not too caught up in life.
I hope you wake up today and tell me
what a waste of day it would be
if we spend it apart.
Lets push away every work
for a tomorrow that falls on a lonelier day.
We will look at the stars
sitting in this rundown world
and pretend that the cries we hear
and the ones that escape from our mouth
is the music and the beauty we created.
We will rewrite the meaning
of the light we see
so no one else has to be burdened with sorrow,
no one is filled with pity
when they take our words in their mouth.
We will look at stars
and we will loose our voice
but as the world turns silent again,
all that is left would be the words of hope
I could never believe myself
but that’s what I want to gift.
That is how I want to leave.
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.
All that led me in life-
Sometimes towards you,
My pride, my greed.
My sense of right
and my lust for wrong.
All have left me alone in life,
as you breathe your last.
Struggling to be free from me.
Your eyes found me hiding
in the truths I created everyday,
so my lies didn’t become apparent to myself.
Maybe because of that you have been tied to me
by what I now know as love.
of deserving love,
no longer haunts my mind.
I wish I could go back to the world
where you breathe,
where you smile,
where you lips, your love, your tears
do not know my name.
For I know,
even if I could do it all over again,
it would all be the same.
The keys beneath my finger
are tired of creating words and sounds,
that live too less and die too soon,
because they couldn’t breathe
in the air devoid of you.
Bigger waves of noises
drag them, drown them
and lose them to the place
where they lived before they were born.
They wait in the crowd of wannabe songs
only to become calluses of forsaken hands.
The street is lined with houses
that have forgotten how to breathe anything
There are broken windows
through which I see hopeful eyes staring and crying
trapped in homes that
reek of wait that yields more wait.
The street is lined with trees that never grew.
The roads cling to the snow that never melts.
We all have learned how to go deaf to cries of help
(that’s what growing up means?)
and walk home to our own tragedies-
some we suffer, some we create
and some we never stop.
I want to tell you
how you slowly became the tree
that guards me from the happiness and sadness
of the world,
and let me create my own.
How it was lovely to see you grow.
How it hurt to love you.
How beautiful you were even in the worst of your moments.
How I selfishly wanted to be the only scar on your heart
and only smile on your face.
How,on days that I desperately
looked for a reason to stay,
yours was the only name
that anchored me in this world.
I will tell you how I always lived
dreaming of death,
dreaming of release,
and how thankful I am that
you kept me alive.
I will tell you all this.
But not today.
Some other time.
How many more lines should I write
for you to actually see
the happiness that creates ripples
under my skin at your smile.
The sadness that leaves marks
on my wrist,
on my neck,
at the end of everyday.
And the comfort of your presence
in whose warmth
my ever-flowing tears
that can hold and embrace them.
I carry a love in my heart
that can be accepted and
reciprocated by you,
but never understood.
My hobby is
to find an unclaimed space in myself
and then try to color it.
Because I am bored.
Because I have trouble
that are taking up much more spaces
and this is the only space left for me
in my own life.
And here I create,
I paint my desperation, self-doubt
on the whites of my eyes.
Again I create a monster,
again a little more space I lost,
again I lost a little of my life,
and I wonder why do I suffocate myself.