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: fill
The nights are not that painful anymore
With each day crossed out.
With each dresses, each mask added to the my wardrobe.
With each hand that passed into mine,
with each hand that moved onto the next too easily,
I realized I knew how to dance to this tune
that used to frighten me once.
another potential lover,
another sun that has already grown cold,
whispers in my ears – words I do understand.
I search for a harmless smile in my bag.
I hang it carefully on my face.
I turn myself into a gift,
into a substitute of love
for this person –
who is dying like me,
waiting like me,
for something, anything
to fill the time left.
What does a beautiful day look like?
Your smile filling my heart
with the sweetness that I hate.
The crystals of sugar, your gentle words
cover everything in the world,
like a world lost in a blizzard
all that kept me on my feet vanishes.
I breathe easier because you are here.
What does a beautiful day day look like?
There are no beautiful days dear.
There are just days that we were happy,
the days I will look back with tears in my heart,
with these weak hands that could never hold onto you.
Make me a little more happier love,
give me one more reason to be sad
when you are gone.
I always thought
that I could be happy,
if only I could make myself love happiness.
Though I approached this strange kid,
though I pretended to be good
and as holy as humans can be,
I had nothing to say this ever smiling child.
All the standard stories
I had prepared for this heavy chore
of presenting myself to this world,
were not for her ears.
I could never make myself fill her head with such darkness.
Why should she know of the categories of suffering and where I fit,
about the worth that every person has to earn.
This kid looked at rainbow and reflections with marvel,
prayed before every meal, believed in every story told.
There was nothing I could say to her.
I could not make her see me, befriend me, understand me
without changing her into me.
Only my love for this happiness
stands in my way
of the heaven I have dreamt in futile.
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 put on my favorite show
(that I have seen for umpteenth time),
increase the volume,
fill my plate.
My eyes glued to TV
notices too late all that I have spilled,
fill my plate with things I won’t eat.
The same beautiful scene.
Under the yellow light
stand two actors,
pretending to be in love,
doing a better job at it
that we ever could,
we could never say.
My heart breaks to see this love,
it pops like a bubble wrap,
bursts like a bubble of daydreams.
No, it doesn’t hurt.
I just hear a sound
from the otherwise silent machinery
that keeps me running.
I am glad you meant enough to me
to have become
a familiar bump on the familiar road
that my heart always takes.
I took my rusted pen, my useless words
and tried to write something beautiful for you.
Words filled with my love,
words that tasted
like all your favorite forgotten dreams.
But I found myself tracing
the only words on your skin.
I ended up rewriting your sorrow.
I ended becoming the face of your fears.