Whispers To The Oblivion ...

I suffer from a disease. It creeps past bedtime through fine ridges between threads of winter blankets and gets to me in that deep pit on the left side of my chest where once used to be a beating organ, just essential for survival, Until you were felt. Pain exists there, as I know like a thorny autumn bark And refuses to leave till I promise to every inch of me part by part one day they'd be home reviving beneath your skin, between your breaths Spring would emerge long caught in limbo But presently, I suffer from a disease It's called loneliness And the only cure I know Is you .

You tell me there is fire between my legs that sets your soul ablaze My fire yearns to quench And I imagine you to be true In the middle of work cacophony And when I return To a homeless apartment, through lonely sidewalks and ghastly silences. In brief escape, I still beg you to take me in trance When you pick up my broken remains in tight embraces. I imagine you to be true And feel the love tranquilizers amidst cut throat emotions At 3 a.m mid sleep I imagine the damp smell of your shirt Startled, I wake up But why is there a hole in my heart?

On chilly foggy nights As I trace lonely roads unadorned, except for shapeless trees and eerie silences, I half wait for you To come Stand before me And re-kindle Whatever was kept off till now.

That sleep leaves me barren on unforeseeable whispers,  doesn't bother me That anxiety attacks on mid nights like this,  doesn't really bother me You know, that  tingly feeling  of fear and uncertainty  creeps up at the back of my throat  and travels through the gut like a vile poison,  and it doesn't bother me either What does, is that I calm fiery heartbeats  by promising myself that two fortnights later  I would be in your arms  and the wetness of your lips on my drought skin  would make it easier to pass nights as these. What really bothers me is that  I promised myself not to fall in love, ever, not even remotely, And look, where we are.

With her dreams cradled on eyelids, sleepless nights have been spent. With her crooning, I held inward, a sober whiskey drained. Between sonnets to her eyes and musings of her touch, the heart had been defiant on evenings I had seen too much. Of shadows I quest and dreams devour, My heart races through the night And love lulls me to a soothing shore. I wake under the sultry sun burning me to rust And then, I find myself running again For escape, I must.