As the light and the life of the streets
are switched on,
I wait for your knock on my door,
my heart going on imaginative trips
to the hell of not knowing.
with whom you might fall in love,
where you might find another broken human to pet,
in what form will that person appear
who would hold your rain for a moment
while you fix your smile.
This interesting world scares me,
where everyone and everything is better than me.
Have we wandered too far away
once lived our dreams?
It’s a long walk
and dark thoughts chase me
on this sunny day.
Smile at me once more.
So that I know there is not only one place,
not only one way to dream.
There are ruins of hearts hiding
in the secluded places
that refuse to vanish into
this decaying world.
Stagnancy is not an accurate word
the beauty of these corners,
where the caresses of sunlight
and wind are trapped forever.
There are places
that hold the touch of the ones
the world has lost.
Though I am yet
to fully realize
the depth and sorrow of
But here it doesn’t matter.
Here the summer and the winter are same.
Here the cry trapped in my veins
can sings along with voices from far way time.
Here my silence
can be music.
Here I can sit and hope
for our love to last forevers.
And know that there are certain love
that can never cease to exist,
but only forgotten.
Though I hate to admit it,
I have known more happiness
than I should.
And the days of sorrow that I talk about
were not as bad as I write.
The flaw of my heart
was always being too expectant,
of overestimating my worth in the schemes of life.
Believing that the tales I read
were written for me.
But knowing all this
there is only way to live my life
that I know of.
I guess sometimes
it is easier to relive the nightmares,
to live in the smaller eternities of pain,
than to wander in this fog
not knowing what to look for.
That one rose.
That one letter.
They were not his love,
but his apology.
The only word I kept under my tongue
my name – and yet it is dissolving
into the fog where all things are lost.
As the weight of my name slips
from my mouth,
I feel how latching onto anything is
I feel how letting everything go is
also a suffering.
And I keep swaying in the currents of
and wanting nothing.
I am living
but I do not know what to do with this world
or with myself.
I have no answers.
Words do not have much meaning
on the lips of someone
who has been abandoned by every word.
There are trails of stardust
that are possibly tears,
frozen in the cold space.
Frozen despite the sun
and thousand other burning stars.
And I am not sure
if they are yours or mine.
I look for a cradle.
I look for a caressing hand.
I look for everything that is not you.
I look for everything you once were.
Rivers of people
crowded the alleys of my mind.
Every thought of mine
had to go through them.
And they were relentless.
By the time it made through them,
it was not the same.
That beautiful new born thought
had turned into a old stranger.
I learned one thing
that I can never have a thought
or an action
that is truly my own.
And even when the building and the skies
of my mind decay,
the people in those alleys will live on.
As I purse my lips,
trying to push back words
that I am afraid are the wrong ones.
stand in awe,
of those gentle souls
who heal so many hearts.
While I fail
to utter any words,
what might break them.