why i was born so,
with so many roots,
roots that find
at the end of their tips.
Tag Archives: nayana nair poem
The air fills my lungs,
and drowns me
and now I remembering things that I shouldn’t
I am remembering every moment of my incomplete death.
Someone cuts a window in my chest,
rips into pieces the words that shouldn’t get out.
A rough skin holds me a bit too long
with a bit too much force,
a bit too much neglect.
“ohhh…it was not love after all“,
I remember thinking this
as I closed my eyes wanting to forget this person
who has taken half of my life, so easily.
“For a brief moment I was loved“,
I wanted to say this at least.
I held on so long only for that sake.
But now I must breathe in the air
that I once thought I didn’t need as long as I had love.
whatever this is.
till I find a way to hide it,
get rid of it,
or kill it.
They say I will die the moment
I set the monster in me ablaze.
But this is the reason
warnings no longer work on me.
This is why I cannot live the way I want.
This is why ‘what I now want’
is ‘what I never ever wanted to want’.
Don’t take pity on me
nor on this thing that eats me
and replaces my every cell
with hateful words
and spiteful actions.
Why are you holding me down?
Why are you holding me back?
Why do you want to preserve me like this-
at my worst?
I am becoming better at creating excuses.
I am becoming better at forgetting the hurt I cause.
It kills me to see myself straying away from my ideals.
Doesn’t that matter a bit?
I read about the life you left behind.
About the days when love couldn’t protect anyone.
Days when there rose a necessary evil in you.
It seems once you were good enough
to fall for the traps that I live in.
I wish I had known the fragile you,
but maybe it is all for the best,
for my cruelty walks hand in hand with my love.
In your room, as you smile
and joke about the tears you have hidden in your diaries,
about the new hearts that you had to grow every year.
As I peel off my makeup and my sarcastic words,
I realize that I am about to fall for you
(probably for all the wrong reasons).
Though I might not have been looking
for someone sad to love,
but ‘not having to explain’ helps.
It helps that you, like me, know and understand
that showing wounds sometimes hurt more than getting them.
Every time I held your hand, I felt it.
Your blood, your voice, your mind
taking a step back,
a silent declaration,
“I can only love you this much”.
I stood on the lines I am not meant to cross.
I shifted uncomfortably from one leg to another,
afraid what my next step could do to your heart.
Wondering how much of this distance
is due to my insignificance?
How much of its reason roots in your fears?
I hope I knew how to fix things
that are not broken.
I wish I knew how to erase and redraw
our painfully distant orbits.
The sun in your eyes sets so slowly. I need to remind myself that this is not the end. This is not the end. This is not the end. This is but a chasm left open for the love to see. For the love to see and for this love to grow into the darkness we hide from each other, from this world, from our own eyes. She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me today, tomorrow she may not, she will love me as long as she can. These are the words I got to say and suffer over, again and again. These are the words that made me walk a little bit more. Is there anything more beautiful than this? That you were the light, the wind, the silence, the flickering hope in my heart. How can I lose you, when you are all that I am.
i am always looking for…
i am nothing without…
must i fill these sentences?
is it compulsory
to tell you where it hurts and why?
the pencil bends and breaks
in my hand, but my voice won’t crack.
i think a bit of my cruelty shows
through everything that i do.
“have you ever wanted to be a person like me?”
when i ask you this, you avoid my eyes.
the often-spoken-and-never-meant words
surface on your lips,
“i love you for who you are, i want nothing more”
sadly followed by
“it is not too late to change”