I am sipping my 27th cup of coffee
waiting for the shop to get crowded,
so people will not eye me with suspicion or pity.
So I can be in company of people
who have nowhere to go, like me.
For whom, home is just a place you run away from.
I wait for the sun to set.
I wait for the sounds of your approaching footsteps.
I see you make your way
to the table behind me.
I don’t have to look, to know it’s you.
I know you much more than I should.
We have lived together for too long.
And you wouldn’t know me
even if you saw my face.
You have only known yourself,
your world knows nothing but you.
And slowly the seats around you
are filled one by one.
And empty chairs
are being drawn and dragged around you.
And with these strangers
I hear my stories from
your mouth that seem like
the only warmth in their life.
I hear every word you say,
I hear it everyday
waiting at this shop.
To hear, if you ever came to miss me.
Ever said my name with a melancholy
of losing something precious.
If in the stories you tell,
if you could still see me.
If for a moment I could hear you utter word “love”
with my name in its periphery.
I do not love you.
I’m not here to claim you back.
Not here to prove my eternal undying love.
I am just waiting in this cold
that when I sold you my life,
when you used up my story
what you did with me?
Am I there in that heart?
Or at the bottom of some frozen lake?
I need to start looking for it.
And I don’t know where to start.
There is a blue tinted haze
to the memories of you,
that have a habit of changing colors,
before get to grasp them.
I have lost many words.
I have forgotten words you once said
and now a silent motion picture
runs in my head,
where your eyes question me,
why I do not understand.
I have lost many days.
I have no recall of the
collection of hours and seconds
that you will never forget.
But still I am at peace
to have you,
and to loose your memories.
To have this blank beautiful room,
that you can paint forever
in the colors you want,
while I look out dazed
into the sunset,
fearing the day
my memories would return.
It has been ages
since I wanted to sleep.
I feel tired and exhausted.
I feel an urge to dip myself
in cold cold water.
So I could get rid of this heaviness
in my soul.
I feel like running and crying
and speaking all the stuff
that make no sense.
I do not remember the last time
when I wanted to sleep.
I sleep because I have to.
I am not short of sleep
I am short of hours and minutes
to live my life.
I want to stay awake
and see the clock ticking by.
How pages of book sound different
when turned at the silence of night.
I mean to read poems all night
But I never seem to read enough.
Just a little.
to remember how vast this void is
that I’m trying to fill.
How impossible this task.
How less the time.
“The people of the world run about excitedly as if they
were going to miss the yearly, royal, sacrificial feast,
or as if they were going to be the last one
to climb a high tower on a beautiful spring day.
I alone remain quiet and indifferent.
Unoccupied by worldly cares,
I move forward to nowhere.”