I hold the phone
hoping you’ll pick up;
hoping you wouldn’t;
hoping you’ll recognise the number;
hoping you wouldn’t;
wondering how you could forget the number
when I couldn’t…
I hold the phone
hoping you’re awake;
hoping you’re asleep;
wondering how you could,
when I couldn’t…
I hold the phone wondering
if you have company
and who could she be;
fuming, how you could
when I couldn’t…
Raging, I throw the phone
at the wall
breaking it into pieces
like me…
Still wishing,
you had taken that call…
Sitting on a brick wall
in the sea of the darkest night,
I, a lonely siren,
sang to my sailor,
beckoning him to venture out
of the comfort of his home.
Mosquitoes sang chorus.
Bats flew around
joining my lonely vigil.
The neighbours whispered
of the ghost in neighbourhood,
while, my sailor slept
dreaming of another,
never knowing the one
who awaits him.
You stand with your family
looking at me with eyes full of hate–
angry at god-knows-what
since god-knows-when–
glaring at the lawyer, the clerk, the judge,
your mortal enemies without a grudge.
You shift the glare
to burn a hole through my heart.
Startled, I glance back without anger,
only deep loss at the part
where the last thing we ever share
is the papers you hand over
to set us both apart.
Taking steps one at a time,
Lost in a haze of images–
Too slow to look at,
Too fast to understand,
Backwards in the good times we had,
Fast forward in the non-existent future.
Voices of friends
a blur of background noises–
Too high to like,
Too low to register,
Numb to all pain–
Too numb to be alive,
Too dead to be breathing,
Still existing
In a world without you…
Image by Jr Korpa on Unsplash
All day, I wait for the night to return
When her long fingers caress me
And light the very fabric of my being.
Her silhouette in the dark room’s door
is the fire to my core.
I watch her every move
as she lies down next to me
with a sigh,
Her dreamy eyes closed to the world,
she smiles.
I sigh too, knowing too well,
My heart would never get over her,
No matter how many years go by.
Of course, she doesn’t understand
how I feel because, for her,
I’m just a night stand.
Still waiting when everybody’s gone
not able to step out
in the bright sunshine
that’d kill all hope.
Still waiting for you to call
and beg me to return,
knowing all too well
you would never
love me enough…
Free photo by Antoine Boissonot on Unsplash
Hiding here
so, you can ignore me,
like always,
without hurting my pride.
Image by Regös Környei on Unsplash
You picked my pieces
from the ruins,
dreaming to put me
together
on the pedestal
of perfection–
A place where I could
never belong.
Angry, you pushed me
off the pedestal
Shattering me into
Countless pieces
of heart.
Every day.
Food burnt in kitchen.
Laundry soaked and waiting long,
While tears wait to fall.
You’re always in the room,
never in the plain sight.
I see you hiding behind the peripheral vision
in the corner of my eyes,
where yesterdays mixes with todays,
where lines of the worlds fade,
and you stand with disapproving silence
at my childish ways,
ungracefulness, wrinkles, greys,…
judging anything that I do,
no matter what I do
to please.
I carry on the facade
as if I don’t see you
frowning, shaking your head,
in every moment of my life,
wake and dreams alike…
Short Stories 