Today you are silent
and you don’t care.
You have changed
without changing anything about you.
You don’t want to be concerned with
should-be or could-be
as all that matters is what is.
what-is is a fact that needs no forgiveness
You beg me not drag you down
into the waters of the past, “They are ugly
they are hard, they are things that we can’t have.”
is all you say about the life we once had.
what-didn’t-come-to-be is an ocean I must swim alone,
an ocean that just grows and grows deeper and wider
cause I can’t seem to stop hoping from you.
In the forms of “Renewal and Hope”,
in the forms of “Happy Married Life Again?”,
you fill the reason as “wandering and its joys”.
So I burn up all such papers
where you won’t look me in the eye
and tell me the truth
or at least some believable lie.
I burn away this life
where you wander in every direction but mine.
Where I am not wrong for you,
you just don’t want me to be the right.
“It scares me”, you once said, “the thought of losing you.”
How well you have grown, how far you have strayed
from your words, from yourself, and from everything
that you once happily called fate.
every time i found love
i felt as if all my tears have been forgotten.
but forgetting is not erasing.
it seems i cannot let go of anything that easily.
these joys can only shield me
from what I have suffered for a moment
while my soul is a lonely beautiful night,
a backdrop for my sadness to dance.
my sadness is the only part of me
that remembers the best part of my life.
my sadness is the only part of me
that will remember the best parts of you.
love it well.
There was never a point of time
when I could sit back and say-
“This is home.
This is where I will always be.
No one can take me away from here.
Here is where I am bound to be.”
Because I could never hold onto anything
even when I wanted to.
I was always convinced
that there is something very sinister in me
that would be seen, that would show itself
sooner or later,
that I am not all good.
In fact being good is not in my nature,
but just something I carry out
so that people can try to love me,
a behavior I often dropped
when it suited me.
But as much as I am repelled my nature
I also end up finding myself pitiful for how I end up alone
and knowing my flaws
doesn’t make me hate myself enough
to stop me from demanding some consolation from my life
for making it so far.
I want to believe that I at least deserve
a small happiness of my own,
if not the joys of entire world.
There were far too many things
that I needed to undo
just so I can be someone
who could give you the same joy that
you gave away way to easily
to someone like me.
You were so bright
Your smiles were so huge
when you were far.
That I had to be blind
to not know that I was not made for you.
But you were so kind in your love for me,
kind even in your suffering
that the scent of your spring
still lingers in me.
It is sad
that I couldn’t give my heart to you.
It is sad
that I am better at giving up than you,
that you are better in finding happiness anywhere you go,
that we change so easily
even when we don’t want to,
even when we believed we won’t.
“Small Door of a Dream“, Jacob Glatstein
Those trees whose names I never learned
Identify themselves at the window
With their proud blooming.
The night shadows itself
On a small joyous lamp.
A silvered butterfly dances
Into our flickering life
Through light of a dream’s
There was no joy to wander,
to pack my bags
with belongings not entirely mine
and to have a bagful of borrowed stuff,
of borrowed time.
Living on the kindness
that I didn’t deserve.
Each new handhake
echoes of heartbreak
from the future.
I knew where I was going
and I knew where I was taking them.
And that made me hate this ordeal
of trying to memorize the names
of all these new people
who will be soon forgotten.
My heart was never broken.
My home was never broken.
At least not the type of broken
that can’t be repaired.
I do not have shelter of such excuses.
I chose to stay,
I chose to love
and I chose to move away.
I choose to live with the list of names
to the end
than to see them walk away.
There is so much
that the world doesn’t care for.
If we were to care for every thing that
has caused pain to every person,
we may never have been able to live happily
ever in our life.
And there would be a black fog
of borrowed sadness, that will be
the only thing we breathe.
We may cry a few tears of sympathy,
but after those few minutes
we live our life, as we have done till now.
It’s the only thing we can do.
Though it may seem selfish,
but I guess it is both tragic and good
that the cries and scream of this world
never break through
the bubble of our own happiness.
And our own sadness and joy
is bound by our own bubble.
I have nothing to talk to you,
I have hundred things that make me cry at this moment.
There are moments in my life that fill me with joy,
that makes my life seem worth living,
that you do not know of .
But I have nothing to say to you.
You are still my friend,
but I feel we exist in different world.
My world consists of only me.
And your world has no place
for the silence that I speak in.
But I can’t tell you that.
I don’t want to lose you.
You may not know me now.
I may not know you too.
We are holding he hands of our past selves.
But you know it already,
But love me still, like I love you.