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Tag Archives: shelter

“that’s so us” – Nayana Nair

the rains of these kind
that starts with loss and longing
that won’t slow down
won’t shut up
these rains are so much like me
so much like you
indifferent and cruel
i have found another song today
that somehow floats
above the static of this world
i have found another shelter
that fools me into believing
that my sadness is something i can run from
that we will stop belonging to each other
just because we decided to

“Anything but Gray” – Nayana Nair

Once I could write of rains
and the pain they bring.
Today I am afraid of the umbrellas, of shelters,
of the short-lived moments
of what I used to call happiness,
of the ill-planned escapes from cells
filled with my own darkness and filth.

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How have I grown into this person
who recognizes only one face,
that is my own.
Can my selfishness be something
that I can blame someone else for?
Is this also some form of loneliness?

“Memorizing Names” – Nayana Nair

adventure-art-beautiful-black-Favim.com-2651696

There was no joy to wander,
to pack my bags
with belongings not entirely mine
and to have a bagful of borrowed stuff,
of borrowed time.
Living on the kindness
that I didn’t deserve.
Each new handhake
sounded like
echoes of heartbreak
from the future.
I knew where I was going
and I knew where I was taking them.
And that made me hate this ordeal
of trying to memorize the names
of all these new people
who will be soon forgotten.
My heart was never broken.
My home was never broken.
At least not the type of broken
that can’t be repaired.
I do not have shelter of such excuses.
I chose to stay,
I chose to love
and I chose to move away.
I choose to live with the list of names
to the end
than to see them walk away.

“Fire Drill” – Nayana Nair

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Yesterday the fire alarm rang.
We pretended to run
even though we knew of this lie.
Cause we were convinced
this will keep us alive,
when (if) our worst fear
(out of so many)
became reality.

uu

And in the open
where it was supposed to be safe
(as if any place in this world is safe)
when it started to drizzle,
people just wanted to run to a shelter.
Even if it meant taking refuge
in the building they ran away from
with fake fire.

uu

And so like always,
like all of us,
they ran from one place to another,
one fear to another.
And I realized I was too tired to run now.
Running from fire,
running from rain,
running from commitments,
running from love,
running from myself.
I was too tired.
Aren’t you?

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