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“Tiptoe” – Nayana Nair

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the ones we sign our valentine cards to,
the ones we tie ourselves to for life
wait for us to die (or some form of death) to become free.
their heart is full of love – only not for us.

they tiptoe at night to bury their crimes
and demand honesty only when it suits
what they have in their mind.

so even when we ask,
“why did you break me like this
when I loved you so?”

they say, “there are no proofs in stories like these,
where everyone claims to be wronged.
there are no daggers, only words,
which are conveniently easy to forget
or edit if enough years pass.
anyway no one remembers that well,
one can always hear things wrong.”

so we go back to sleep,
get fine with living blind.
tell our self it is fine
as long as we are together,
when “together” is not what we want.

“A Butterfly in a Concrete World” – Nayana Nair

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now i only remember her smile.
it is stuck in my mind like a song.

now all i want is to be the reason
of the this beautiful spring
on the landscape of her face,

just a bird who sits
on a branch of her heart,

just the the light
that passes through her fragile wings.

“Fed Up” – Nayana Nair

I am fed up of writing
the same sorrowful lines,
the same self-pity,
the same cries for fairness
in a game
I’ve quit long ago.

I am fed up of this habit of hiding
even after the storm has passed.

“Afloat” – Nayana Nair

I find myself more broken that I was before.
I find myself praying to every deity who did me wrong,
who never cared,
praying that they changed their mind,
hoping that maybe today they will find me pitiful enough
and finally see me as one of their child.

-x-

And while they continue to stay silent and cruel and distant,
I tell myself that they are doing this for my own good,
that all love cannot be the same.
But these days
I can’t even believe these words
that kept me afloat for so long.
So now, I have found another lie to tell myself
that “everyone suffers like me”
and though it is enough to stop me from tearing up
but the pain doesn’t pass,
and it is no one fault but mine.
That I continued to need the love
that didn’t need me back.

“Same Mirror” – Nayana Nair

Even though we know
we will end up being disappointed in ourselves
we still want find that same mirror
again and again,
expecting to see something different.
Hoping that it will work out one day.
Hoping one day our faults
would be too insignificant to matter.
Relying on the surety
of the forgetfulness of the world
than the forgiveness that we couldn’t dare to ask.

-oOo-

But even if the world forgets,
even if our skin grows anew,
even if our sins become untraceable,
these eyes of ours
remain the same,
always lingering on the spot
where we have buried our past.
Passing of time does nothing to reduce our fear
of being seen for what we are.
Even when that image of what we were
exists nowhere in this world,
it is the only way we can ever see ourselves.

“Far from Truth” – Nayana Nair

For someone who speaks so much
I mean so little of what I say.
I let myself be swayed too easily
and too often.
I foolishly take my passing feelings and poor judgments
as some eternal truth,
when they are not.

Today, I may talk of my wait
for this sorrow to leave my life.
Tomorrow, I will claim it as my only friend
from whom I do not wish to be apart.
All those contradicting words
are true and heartfelt
but only for that moment of time.
Tomorrow I may as well wake up and say that
my sorrow is you- my beating heart.
And I won’t be too far from the truth.

“Less Than Half” – Nayana Nair

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The moment I pass any door
a part of my brain whispers-
too many people,
watch you step and watch your tongue,
lest you want to be branded as one of those women
that you are are and aren’t at the same time.
For if you are not careful enough
you will soon believe everything that people say about you
as you are doing right now.
Right now only half of you exist in this body.
I know this because that is what I was calculating
in the class of areas and volumes,
as teacher taught how we determine
the volume the water left at in a cylinder of flesh
once it starts leaking from all the words that have pierced it.
Or that’s what I heard at least.
I got had good score for that class
and I got called many more names.
A little more of me seeped out
and now I am less than half of what I was.
I know this because I have lost my friends
(maybe they see I am no longer me).
I know this because my heart no longer protests
when I hear people calling me by wrong names.

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