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“The Little Blood I Have” – Nayana Nair

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I looked up at the confused giants
and puzzled at their ugly voices
and deformed faces,
how they hold onto stones and branches
how they hold onto papers,
and threw each other off cliffs.
But what made me sadder was
that no one who was thrown off those cliffs ever died.
They just keep coming back
looking a bit different, speaking more funnier
and acting more mean
and throwing each others down again.
No one ever died here.
Everyone lived and everyone wanted all this to end
but no one wished it more than me.
I was made to believe that the little blood I have in me
is their doing, is their gift.
I wonder how much time it would take
to empty myself from the traces of this violence
and memories of people I grew up calling my family.

“I Hope Not” – Nayana Nair

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I stood at the bottom of the stairs,
stones climbing on each other
as my eyes touch their edges
rain dripping from the green slowly taking them down.
Soon I started to wonder as I always do,
when I see a place I have never been to.
In the days I had not known you
could you be here, where I was not.
Can the air here
remember your face as you moved through it.
I hope not.
I hope you never wander to places
I moved through, when you were not there.
I hope you never find me.
I hope no one remembers what I was.
For I am as I was.
How much would it hurt for you to know
that not even you can reduce my pain,
even with all your love.
I hope you were happier before me,
I hope you will be happier after I leave.
Just a few more days
till I think of the way to end my suffering.

“Close these windows” – Nayana Nair

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I continue to live in the light of my own making
knowing it is the only light I’ll ever find.
For a moment I wonder, how I look to you.
Loosing my sorrow.
Loosing my frown.
Loosing my mind.
One by one
I close these windows
through which your eyes prod me,
to see what’s left behind.
This growing envy, this show for sympathy
these broken words with drops of blood
is all that you would find.

“Picture Book” – Nayana Nair

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Leafing through the pages of my picture book of dreams,
he smiled to himself and said to me-
I can make all of them come true for sure,
you can fill more pages, you can dream more.
The mirror with my face
lost in the light,
lost in thought of love soon to arrive,
while I wait not knowing how to calm myself down.
Where I hold a hand that touches me
like a rare cloud he found on ground.

The roads all lighted,
the words all sweet.
Our heartfelt smiles
at the end of the reel.

 

Going through my picture book of dreams
I smile at him, for not knowing better.
Not knowing that all I want
are for these dreams to die on these pages.
Cause I see the drop of tear that
glistens in the mirror
when my love threatens to leave,
forces me again to change
asks me why I can’t get rid of this mess,
why can’t I be calm again.
Me, wondering how to act
like a gentle cloud that I am not
not wanting to be genuine,
when I get love only when I am not me.

The road all lighted
The words all sweet.
The world going silent
under my scream.

“As you try to save me” – Nayana Nair

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I have always looked at you with wonder and worry,
as you held me in your arms from falling.
Did you ever know
that I fell anyway?
The relief of having you close
vanishes in that fall,
replaced with only awareness
of this body that I live in
and this mind where I die.

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Let us not talk of the emptiness
and incapabilities that we are decorated with.
Your will to endure, my wish to change
does nothing but add a little more pain.

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But everytime I decide to leave,
I look at you once more.
How much of my life have I spent looking at you
under the excuse of ‘last time’?
It pains me that you knew of my love
when it was the last thing I wanted you to know.

“Bright Today” – Nayana Nair

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The light shined a little more bright today
and I wondered what someone must have lost,
had to give up, had to do without
for some others to live a better life.
I pictured the world go dark
city by city, town by town
for sake of those
who refuse to share their light.

“Far too valuable” – Nayana Nair

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My plate
and my half eaten meal,
they remind you of all the times
when I have wasted things, far too valuable.
The trinkets that I treasure.
The coins that cannot buy anything.
The souvenirs that have lost meaning,
the people without memories.
This city in my mind,
I keep alive by not breathing.
You wonder how I became like this.
I wonder how can I be anything but this.

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