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“A Silent Machinery” – Nayana Nair

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I put on my favorite show
(that I have seen for umpteenth time),
increase the volume,
fill my plate.
My eyes glued to TV
notices too late all that I have spilled,
fill my plate with things I won’t eat.

The same beautiful scene.
Under the yellow light
stand two actors,
pretending to be in love,
doing a better job at it
that we ever could,
saying words
we could never say.

My heart breaks to see this love,
it pops like a bubble wrap,
bursts like a bubble of daydreams.
No, it doesn’t hurt.
I just hear a sound
from the otherwise silent machinery
that keeps me running.

I am glad you meant enough to me
to have become
a familiar bump on the familiar road
that my heart always takes.

“Temperature of this world” – Nayana Nair

all the folded boats
spill out of my empty books.

the trees are on fire again.
my mind is on a another wild chase.

my hands light some more branches.
“the world is too cold for me”,
is all that i can say.

today, i am less sad than yesterday,
which makes everything that much more difficult.

today my sorrows have become facts.
my childhood reduced to folded boats in a trash can.

is there any other way to live than this?

“Away from the City of Saints” – Nayana Nair

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so the saint i read about
walked this land,
looked at this river, looked at this sky,
and stood where I stand.

in the cases of glass there are letters,
there are feelings i cannot understand.
they say he made this place with love
here his everything ends, where his nothing began.

but the glass turned into mirrors
his writing became face of mine.
i was pricked by the bitterness
that were not supposed to be in his words.

how can he say the things we say?
how can his cruelty be pardoned for his principle?
why can i not call him hero
like i used to, like everyone still does?
why his truth makes me shrink away from every other truth?
why does his life disappoint me so much?

i came here seeking nothing
but i left losing a lot
and doubting a lot.
on my way back
i left the what he once gave me
and finally picked up what i should have.

“Morning Song” – Nayana Nair

The morning told me that
there are times when we loose a grasp of what we are,
when we feel inadequate for all we have
and slowly all that we have seems to abandon us
even if they are beside us.
I knew what it was saying, I knew what it meant
But I didn’t want to hear it being said.
I wanted lies that could keep me going,
not an echo of reality.
I wish I could go back to sleep,
go back to being myself
(whatever that meant).
“But there is no going back”, the morning said.
“There is only effort, there is only wait.
There would be a morning that won’t be as cruel as me.
But till that morning comes,
there is only effort, there is only wait.”

“Nothing can be greater” – Nayana Nair

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The story that sleeps in me
it never talks of you or me.
I wait till it speaks,
till it sees.
I wait till I no longer have to convince myself
that “yours” is all I want to be.
But the story that repeats itself
tells me not to bother
with saying things I do not mean.
There is a sun in the sky
that is smaller than the hunger in my heart
and nothing can be greater than the my need to be seen.
and that all the eyes that fall on my lonesome drooping figure
will wander when I start to bloom, when I start to speak.
The story that sleeps in me
sings about how everyone leaves.

“Will you be fine?” – Nayana Nair

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Why does it pain like this
to be at the receiving end
of your kindness,
of this smile I have done nothing to deserve?
How can you be the only one
who find me worthy of love,
when I have proved time and again that I am not?
Should I be thankful for your consideration
or should I wait for your patience to run out
before I can accept all you do for me?
How long should I wait
to see if you change your mind?

blue-lotus-flower-painting-for-home-decor-jurgita
Don’t you see this distance
I always keep between you and me.
This continuous suspicions
that I have on my fate
and all things that you have never done
but I keep saying that you will.
How long can you listen to me
saying
that you will leave me eventually,
that you will find another.
This anger that I have for the world
seems only to affect you,
for you are the only one who cares.
How long will you be fine
caring for someone like me?

“Crib and Complain” – Nayana Nair

love-you-bigger-than-the-sky-jodi-leigh

Let me crib.
Let me complain
and let me regret it,
and say again and again
that I never meant a word that you found mean.
I am unusually irresponsible.
I have a ledger
filled with all that I must truly care for.
I only forget to look at it
and act on it.
Even if I am not actually a cold person
I won’t mind it if you describe me so.
I will brush it off
and probably fashion a passive-hatred for you
from all that I act doesn’t bother me.
When it all gets out of my head
and burns your heart,
I will let you crib.
I will let you complain.
and when you say again and again
that you never meant a word that I found mean,
I will believe you.
I hope that will be enough for us to last
longer that the time we could ever predict
if we let each other be mean sometimes, get hurt,
create a drama and forget it when it’s the other’s
turn to loose the mess in mind.

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