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“Nothing hurts more” – Nayana Nair

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The table is set before us.
The lights from a far away sadness
finding its way
to our faces,
that seem too empty without it.
There are friends
holding glasses filled with whatever
helps them forget their hope.
Nothing hurts more than hope.

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For this hour
the ache of our heels
and the weight on our eyes
are replaced with something
smaller and innocent,
something more painful.
Like a snow globe filled
with broken promises.
And we all become kids,
who are still waiting for the presents
of a Christmas marked on calendars lost.
Sleeping on beds that are too small for us.
Holding onto wishes that really dooesn’t matter now.
Nothing hurts more than hope.

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“Too late to care” – Nayana Nair

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There are moments of indifference
that once piled up
seems more than the years I have lived.
There are too many memories
where I cannot see anyone but myself
running around in a dark cave
afraid of everything I bump into.
Not knowing that even if I shout
if anyone would hear,
sometimes fearful of who might hear me.

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And even though
you are out of your cave
and I am out of mine.
Now when we can see all the things we couldn’t.
Now when we can really see each others scars.
Now when we have the luxury to know each others pain.
We feel
it is better to pretend we are still in our caves.
For too many things have been done,
too many words have been said.
And we do not remember answers to question
that we wanted each other to ask.

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“Flaw of my Heart” – Nayana Nair

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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.

“Beg ” – Nayana Nair

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Everything I look at
is sweet impression of your younger self
playing in the garden of my heart.
The shrads from this broken world
stuck in everything
around me.
Why is it that
when I look at a bus stop,
when I look at the sky,
when I look at the chairs,
when I look at my own hand,
they all remind me of you.
They all carry a part of you
even if they have never known your touch.
I have begged these vision
to get down from my eyes,
to come down from my heart.
I have begged them to become a poem.
I have begged them to live forever in you heart.

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You look at me
and I see the unfairness of a love like mine.
I have nightmares in which
there are pieces of broken stars
from your sky
lying at my feet.
I see words slashing at my wrist.
I see glares that mock my tears.
I see my battered skin
and the worst uses of makeup.
I see nights where I must stay up and cry.
I feel fear of something sleeping beside me,
I feel whatever I fear was once “you”.
In those nightmares
I have begged this pain-
to leave my mind
when I wake up and look at you again.
I have begged them
to become my poems.
I have begged them to die with me.

“Pasture” – Nayana Nair

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The forests I have burned to land
is now a green pasture,
with flowers too beautiful to have a name.
Though the land has forgotten
the pain, now lost.
The fire still blazes in my heart
every night.

“Shallow Hearts” – Nayana Nair

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While the world can preach
of greater pain
and complain of shallow hearts
that never look out of themselves.
They never see the the windows of their heart
that were nailed shut
from outside.

“Spare me” – Nayana Nair

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Spare me from your prayers
and spare me from your hearts.
I do not yearn for heaven
for I never believed it from the start.
Spare me from your world.
The fear and resentment of being left beind
feels less like resentment each day.
The reality of life
the pain I have given myself
turns your crimes against me into kindness.

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