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“Stories about me” – Nayana Nair

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There have been numerous accounts
of my failing life
and the reasons of my silence.
And these stories never cease to surprise me.
From time to time
I find the people in my life
have had a story about me
all along
that even I was not aware of.
Their uncalled kindness
and their uncalled cruelty
all had an explanation.
Explanations that had nothing to do with me.
In everyone’s heart their is someone by my name.
They have put me in colors
when I always was in grays.
I find
I never had a friend.
And I find them lonely
just like me,
when I look at the people
I have colored myself.

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“Your Love” – Nayana Nair

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I want to be the shiver
that runs through your body,
when you think of the one you love.
There are far more easier things
to say, to want
but they loose their meaning
as they make their way to my mouth.

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As the days with you
disintergrate,
I find there are more ways of loving you
that the ways I did.
I find there are countless days ahead
days without me
and my absence has less to do with loss of love
and more with the cruelty of life
and nature of my soul.

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How lonely it is to walk alone
even if I walk with you.
How easy it would be to accept this
if only I could become a part of you.
If I would wake up one day
and realise that I am
just one of the many voices in your head.
I think it would be easier to justify this loneliness
if we both are but one.
To know that we can never be separated.
How beautiful it would be, to become your love itself
rather than someone you love.

“Lost you to light” – Nayana Nair

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I remember the day that I found you
with eyes filled with yearning,
heart filled with doubt
and hands soiled with blood
of the your dreams
that you murdered everynight.
I found you in the land
where we had been banished to,
from a world of happiness
where our loved ones reside.

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I remember the day I lost you
to the light
that seemed more cruel than warm.
When you found your happiness and purpose.
When you couldn’t stop humming all day.
when you talked of future with smile.
When you found out what you wanted
and what you wanted was not me.
Makes wonder if I ever really loved you
if I resent you
for having what I want.

smallneonheart

“Cruel” – Nayana Nair

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I always had a sense of entitlement
when it came to dreaming of a lover.
That there would be someone
who puts me first.
But I realized with time
sometimes you have to be that someone
who puts others first.
That was such a terrifying and distressing thought.
And suddenly all these heroes
became somewhat out-of-the-world, larger-than-life
someone I can never be.

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To realize the pain
it must have taken
to scrap down their lives
for the sake of a person
whose love can’t be trusted or guaranteed.
How one must endure their own foolishness.
How one must look away from our own self.
Knowing all the while
that all this, built
by sacrifices,
can be broken in no time
with one word of hers,
that can end your suffering
and renew your struggle.
That there is no way out.
To cling
or to leave.
And to suffer each minute
no matter what you choose.

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It seemed so tiring
It seemed so cruel
to ask someone for that.

“Never Sure”-Nayana Nair

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He has eyes with stare of cruelty
which runs with rivers of pain.
A smile so calculated
afraid of betraying himself, again.
His care and love are
wrapped in the covers of indifference.
He looks at this world
as if it is always within his reach
but can never grasp.
He is two person.
I am never sure which one he is at a time.
And I love them both.

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“Safe” – Nayana Nair

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My bare feet are as cold as

the marbled floor, it rests on.

And my heart is as fresh as

the smell of earth after rain.

My hands move on the rim of my glass

from which I drink up life.

And I close my eyes knowing

these bars will keep me safe.

I’ve got a key, to let in those

who care enough.

They keep me safe from the sick world

And from the cruel and the insane.

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I take off my glasses

and they powder in my fist.

I blow them through the bars

on which they settle and seem like dust.

My feet seems to sink in the floor.

And the air is red with my screams.

There is ink on my fingers, on my tongue.

On the touch of shards of my broken glass.

I bleed blue.

It’s getting lonely here,

no one cares, no one visits.

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I cannot stay here any more,

But my key doesn’t fit.

I look at those outside,

mocking me.

The bars were not to keep them out.

It was to keep me in.

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