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“Running Stream” – Nayana Nair

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My hope waits for the day that this skin won’t alien,
like a loss,
like a counter running out of number
like our voices running out of things to say.

***

And my wishes for a gentler nature,
or to be that cool-headed person I once read about,
or to be the running stream of water
before it was poisoned.
All changed to wanting
something that is not waiting to vanish.

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“Still Reality” – Nayana Nair

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The days will still be warm,
the memories still reality-
as long as I write,
as long as my pain
keeps me alive.

“Rewrite” – Nayana Nair

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I could say that you are so far away
that you cannot know what makes me
even if you tried.
For I feel the excuse of distance cannot fill this basket
that would have been essentially filled with the
reasons that are easier to put in mouth
but difficult to wrap our heart around.
Like the words that are often deleted and rewritten
so as not to offend.
And rewritten thousand times
so that they say nothing, mean nothing.
And we are content at the fact
that we could voice something in this world
even if the purpose of these words
was to just to fill up the air, fill up our time.
And the space just widens between us,
not because
there is distance between our heart
(because this wide world was made
for our heart to roam,
so this distance cannot be avoided).
But because I could never let you
rest your head, rest your questions
on the lap of my thoughts.
So that you may know
how my life (just like yours)
simmers under the heat of
indifferent care
that we are all used to receive.

“Crises” – Nayana Nair

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The small crises
of my day-to-day life that
seem like disaster,
were nothing more than
my heart rebelling against my heart.
Of me fighting myself,
Of me looking at myself,
mocking at myself,
crying with myself.
Of accepting the solitude I had subjected myself to.
Of not knowing a way out of it.
Of thinking that if I could be miserable enough
someone might rescue me.
And finally accepting the life
I have shared with no one else
but me.

“Soon” – Nayana Nair

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There is a thought

that holds my hands

sometimes to save me from drowning,

sometimes to drag me down.

The thought that

all you say

and all I say

will be part of all the noise

that this world has already lost.

This world that had witnessed us together

will soon forget us.

And we won’t feel a thing a that time,

however we may dread that day right now.

“Trace” – Nayana Nair

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I will trace your tears
through the meteor shower,
through the footsteps that you followed,
through the hands that you held,
through the hearts that you broke,
through the marks on your skin,
through the lost and found columns,
through the moist flower placed in you books,
through that crossed out name, on every page.
I will trace your tears
that will lead back to me.
And say what needs to be said.
An apology.
An apology that you never got.
An apology that you deserved.

“How I spend my seconds” – Nayana Nair

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I look at your eyes
and notice the tone of your voice.
Every second, each day
afraid that something I do,
or something I say
might offend you.
I walk around your shadow
and you wonder why my touch,
why my words are so cold.
I wonder how long will I
keep you in my heart,
where you don’t want to stay anyway.

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