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Don’t think that I’d be able to see others
while I have you
still being reflected in the scattered fragments
of my past.
First it is you,
and then there is your mirage
that blurs all else.
It is a feeling,
a mere notion
that life could be possible
on its own
and I am walking toward it
with a million hopes
mounted on my shoulders.
You could be among the dead
or you could be among the living.
The possibility of it,
the persistence of it
will not erase the distance
I’ve covered alone
and in my eagerness
to sheathe our memories
I fall beneath the grace of my principles
much so often.
Yet I’ve carried on
with no illusions,
with no fiction
and perhaps it is in my bidding
to endure my gains and my losses
alone,
until I reach my final destination.
I have you and I have nothing else.
Or so it feels,
or so it feels.

8th August 2011

Different shades of you

Different shades of you
Dark red and orange blue;
When my fear cannot be contained
I turn to you.
You listen and perhaps nod
but you never answer
and I am left curling up with cold
and shame in my unwashed sheets.
You define the very lines of my expression
and when I seek you to unveil their meaning
you disappear.
Every vivacious realm of my surroundings
becomes dull and I twist and turn
in my unwanted dreams
screaming in my ever awake nights.
Put me to sleep please; a prayer,
a drug, perhaps a notion of suicide
could become a righteous path.
Oh, how I stumble upon all else
but the chosen variations of you.
So I beg of you to let me live
or to let me die
because I cannot fulfill their needs
and their wishes of me.
Oh how you know so!
One or the other, I will meet
the different shades of you
and you know that too.

11th June 2011

Dancing Rain

Must we face the dancing rain
and soak up the skies with our tears?
I cannot carry your will in my sleepless nights.
I cannot offer you my misery
and I cannot be dull to my vivaciousness.
She leans against his shoulder
and rests her sigh on open plains
as it is carried through the breeze
towards many forgotten things.
“Soldiers will be soldiers…”
She whispers,
“… and whores would be whores”
and then she smiles with no sense of expression.
No I cannot narrate what is only felt
while I am immersed in you.
I have no sense of words
and I have no sense of direction.
But you.
So let it be undone here.
Because an incomplete verse
is far more relishing than
whole story with a sad ending.

Asima S.