Skip to main content

Loonly

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.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Goodbye Oksana

Human beings no matter where they go in the world, will always seek home:  in places, in people, in things, and in food. Perhaps because at the end of the day one wants to be vulnerable and yet are loved. We search for a setting where not the flesh, not the bones, but the very soul beneath it is adored and cradled like a newborn, squealing, and needy for love.  As long as I lived with my family, I never realized the worth of home, unless one day, I was out in the wide world, alone, apprehensive, and being indoctrinated by societal norms every single day. The only pockets of peace that I was left with was a 'chosen family': a farrago of strangers that I met, and before I could decide to love or hate them, I was entangled with them like wollen strands in the mesh of a new warm cardigan. I have lived with a plethora of strangers, loved them, held them close in my most vulnerable moments, and then cried bitterly when we parted. After a time, both parties agreed on their fate and mo
Post a Comment
Read more

Desertion

We sat amidst piles of memories  And rubbles of hope Savoring our last cup of coffee together  We laughed so hard that I spilled coffee on my dress And then you laughed a little more. ... Even with your back turned to me As you frivolously tucked  your books into blasé Amazon boxes I could feel your beautiful blue eyes  blurring with silent tears,  just as mine. ... Our love is stranded today at the edge of the door It's time to bid adieu "Fare thee well" , I say And then you turn around  to smile ... Flashes through my eyes  those three-sixty-five days of you and me like it was i decade since I had held you close  and then like everyone I have ever loved,  you had to go ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Sunset - a rant

I Sunsets on your bed have never been the same before. I have never seen such beautiful hues of sunset. How surreal it seems when I realize that it is, in fact, the sheen of my eyes that reflects the remnants of the sunlight: the blues, the yellows, the orange, the red, and the lavender. From the windows of your top-floor apartment, everything looks immobile. The silence feels so peaceful, so calm that it's almost unbelievable that only a year ago, ruthless storms have ravaged me. II The tints of the sky reflect through the glass windows of every building in this corner of the town; each of which has a story to tell. The barren trees hold up their limbs onto the sky, tall and proud. Even in their disheveled state, they do not ask for a savior. They are worthy and whole on their own. Fall has ended in a jiffy and harsh winters are en route. Yet, lifeless trees are not afraid to embrace the darkness, for they live in the hope of a certainty: that certainty being spring. I wish the Sh
Post a Comment
Read more