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Tag Archives: time

“Throw Myself”- Nayana Nair

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There was no breath left to let out

as I throw myself down the stairs.

And every step that I tumble down.

I feel breaking bones.

Muscles and knuckles

losing the another bubble of a happy memory

that I once thought would be enough to keep me alive.

My broken thoughts rush into my blood

into my empty lungs,

almost convinced that this the last

they will see of me.

And I never tire out.

I never feel sore enough or pained enough

to stop myself from doing this to myself.

But while I took you for another wall

that existed to break me,

another voice to help me fill up

pages on essays of self-hatred

and regrets that do not forget me.

You became the arms that hold me, lift me

And carry my burden of life along with me.

And for first time

I want to live better.

And I want you with me in that better life.

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“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.

“Sparkler’s Trail” – Nayana Nair

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The duration of time we speak of as days
is just our stories breaking and bleeding
from moment to another.
The fragments of our memories
are just bookmarks to a pages
with words that has been long erased.
And all that we are left with
are threads of time suspended in our eyes,
that really isn’t here
and yet it is the only thing we have
and the only thing we want.

“Memorizing Names” – Nayana Nair

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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.

“Garden of mine” – Nayana

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Love and concern
are not something that grows
naturally in my heart.
I have never known a time when they have.
Even if I have put fake flowers
in this garden of mine,
it is only for your sake.
Don’t you think I care enough
to tell you the words I can never believe.
Don’t you think my love is enough,
if it wants you to sit in the shade
of the tree I have made leaf by leaf.

“My Life” – Nayana Nair

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My life like
that autumn leaf,
falls and flies
at the same time.

“Forever” – Nayana Nair

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There are ruins of hearts hiding
in the secluded places
that refuse to vanish into
this decaying world.
Stagnancy is not an accurate word
to describe
the beauty of these corners,
where the caresses of sunlight
and wind are trapped forever.
There are places
that hold the touch of the ones
the world has lost.
Though I am yet
to fully realize
the depth and sorrow of
this word.
But here it doesn’t matter.
Here the summer and the winter are same.
Here the cry trapped in my veins
can sings along with voices from far way time.
Here my silence
can be music.
Here I can sit and hope
for our love to last forevers.
And know that there are certain love
that can never cease to exist,
but only forgotten.

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