The nights are not that painful anymore
whatever grows in me
It has no care for lack of light in this world,
no care for years filled with question marks.
it has no fear to be eaten up or extinguished.
Unlike me. It is so unlike me,
that I can rely on it to keep me floating
even my hands refuse to help me live.
I used to believe that it is love,
it is hope that keeps me afloat.
But I no longer have a name for it,
since love and hope have abandoned me
and yet I float.
And yet I float.
Tag Archives: fear
The nights are not that painful anymore
I wanted to write something about you,
before I start forgetting-
who you were,
who i was with you,
how we lived,
and how we learned how to not live,
how we felt the extremes of helplessness,
with each other.
But I do not want to be the only voice actor
in this otherwise silent movie.
I could never read your lips.
I never moved mine.
But it should have been enough.
You convinced me that I would be enough for you.
But as I suspected you knew too little of yourself.
As I knew, my love also had limitations.
We hated what we saw in each other.
So you covered your eyes with anger,
I covered mine with fear.
And all we did for years is to sing to each other
about the loneliness that we had gifted each other.
If only we could give up on ourselves earlier,
we may not have suffered so bad,
we might not have hated each other so much.
I wish what we had was something shallow.
But it was not, our wounds are proof of that.
Lets just say that we would live on just fine
and try to believe in that as long as we can.
i don’t want to move on from you,
even though you are not what i want anymore.
because i fear
that i might start to love you again tomorrow.
tomorrow – when it is already too late to take back words.
I think of the clothes that are too tight or too loose for me,
of my skin that doesn’t like me the way it used to.
How the mirrors in my home are hidden
by the growing towers of books.
I wonder what this says about me?
I think of the fear that I feel when I am alone,
the fear that I feel when I walk into happiness.
I think of the kinds of fear that fill my heart.
I count them for a long time
but nothing happens when I finish counting.
I wonder if knowing myself
is really the first step to solving my life.
Do I want anything to be solved?
I count the people
that who no longer speak to me
and half way through I remember
that it was me who had thrown them away first.
Silence is my weapon, not theirs.
I realize I need to always hold a grudge against someone
to live with strength.
I wonder when this strength became so important to me.
I wonder when this love that felt like a lemonade in summer
actually became a commercialized product
with an expiry date stamped on it
before it even reaches our hands.
I think of my skin by which I am stuck to a world like this.
I wonder why I pretend to be better than this world by saying such stuff?
Why am I so into acting all deep and philosophical?
I wonder why I love to call myself broken even though I hate to be seen so?
Don’t misunderstand me.
I do not want answers.
Answers are painful and pointless,
answers are a tasteless end
to the struggle that otherwise makes my heart bleed colors.
the doors, the light falling on us,
the grass that grew by the roads that we walked,
the flowers in our backyard,
you changed everything.
you filled everything with so much light
and drew every object around you
with such intense colors
that I had to love you.
but you could not change me.
my heart stirred in its sleep
but never wanted to wake up and decide.
i am not dragging you down for what happened.
i am not saying that you were enough.
i am saying that it was your benevolence-
how you never tried to take this fabric of my skin
and sew it something that would fit you,
how you remained the wide blue sky
and how i remained a small disappearing brook,
how my heart felt small to even hold an essence of you,
how i feared to lose you,
how i wanted to lose you for once,
to be free from this fear
that is what drove us apart.
some days i wished for you to fall into me,
to make me something more than i am.
some days i wished i never met you,
never became aware with how small i am.
I am told that all this will end
and we would finally reach a point
where it all goes downhill,
that our hearts will know real meaning of pain.
Maybe it is the lack of my imagination
that I cannot imagine any darkness where you are,
at least not the darkness that I fear.
We are sandwiched between the pain of loneliness
and pain of loving too much.
The darkness would have still existed
even if our eyes had not met.
I am falling in love with the disaster
we get to create together.
If we are doomed,
at least we are doomed in best possible way.
In a dull handheld mirror
that had yet to be broken,
I looked at myself
that someone is dying inside me.
I didn’t know how to accept this,
so I solved every question in my math textbook.
I learned to eat more and sleep late.
Stared at my wrist for hours.
Pretended to sleep fearing questions.
Tried a bit of every sin
and waited around to be damned.
I felt a constant urge to break someone
so this world could be little less happier.
But death claimed my heart
before I could do that.
So now I write “love” on your tongue
without knowing what it means.