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“Losing my delusions” – Nayana Nair

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I am stuck somewhere between
the hopeless continuation
and the frightening end.
The spiraling down tower of
love, the staggering me-
filled to brim with saved up hopes
spilling, losing one calming delusion at a time-
wasted on the people, wasted on reality
that never wants to change,
never wants to grow.
The soft sky falling on this world
talking everything with itself,
except me.

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“Does it make sense” – Nayana Nair

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I have waited and dreaded this moment
where all my memories come rushing back in
and all my sins outweigh the suffering I had
and nothing I could tell myself
will absolve me from my crimes.
I can look back and say
“I was immature and I didn’t know enough.”
But is that enough?
But is that a valid reason?
Can any reason
validate the pain that continues to grow
in the chest of other
while my own brain is busy burying facts
that puts me in a bad light?
How can I talk like this
as if I am the one suffering?
But if I look back one more time
I am afraid I can never move forward.
Does it make sense that still I think of myself?
What kind of repentance is this?
Does it make sense for me to cry?

“Murky Waters” – Nayana Nair

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As I drop one stone after other
into the murky waters
with dust that never settles.
I find sounds in the air, forming words
which were almost lost under the blankets of pain.
I do not try to find the one who
cried out these words.
I just add them to the stones
that are destined
to be overlooked, buried or drowned.
I throw the stones that must be thrown.
So that this dirt, that my heart
never settles.
So that these sorrows can find
a home and a reason
to grow old and die.

“Find it Red” – Nayana Nair

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They make me grow a forest of hate
and leave me there to die.
They give me tiny drops of love
so for getting more I can try.
So that I try and know the taste
of the words that are stamped on my existence
by the eyes of those
who decide what I can be and where I can go.
They tell me all the thing gone wrong
just because people like me shouldn’t be born.
They slash my skin
to check my blood
and are disappointed to find it red
like theirs.

“Walking Home” – Nayana Nair

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The street is lined with houses
that have forgotten how to breathe anything
but neglect.
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.

“Garden of mine” – Nayana

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Love and concern
are not something that grows
naturally in my heart.
I have never known a time when they have.
Even if I have put fake flowers
in this garden of mine,
it is only for your sake.
Don’t you think I care enough
to tell you the words I can never believe.
Don’t you think my love is enough,
if it wants you to sit in the shade
of the tree I have made leaf by leaf.

“Nightmare” – Nayana Nair

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There are nightmares
growing in me.
There are mirrors
where my reflection
is your face.
And they do not look at me
but through me.
In your eyes
I see the dream
that was almost mine.

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