It has withered, the flower that once bloomed at the thought
of you, or your name. The scent that worshipped at your feet, that flapped its
wings upon your subtle orders, no longer
lingers and the stench of its decay hangs in the air like a fresh coat of paint.
I am no longer charmed by your smile, the one I thought the sun vainly tried to
ape. Your laughter that echoed ever so beautifully in the hollow innards of my
brain won’t even inspire my poetry, not anymore.
I am tired conjuring up excuses to meet you, following up on
my own promises and shit like that. I do not have the energy anymore. I don’t
want to think one day I have the courage to tell you how you kept my nights
alight and how, listening to your voice, gave me a sensation, a churning in my
stomach. I wanted to love you. I wanted to have every piece of you, every
strand of your hair. I wanted to protect you from the world, but I am no hero-I
can’t even save myself.
And one, I am tempted to think,….one day you might call, it
could be ten years from now or probably even never. In case it never comes,
I’ll flip through these words and imagine like it happened, like I did tell
them to you one bright day. Should you call and be tempted to ask me why I am
so quiet not even a word of hi, here’s what I’ll tell you or might tell for I’ll
probably lie I was busy. For ten years. Yes. Ten even years. It’s possible.
I’ll tell you that I tried to pluck courage from the depths
of my soul, the untainted parts but it was too dark in there. I’ll tell you
that I hoped your smile, would be enough to light it up but it just wasn’t. I’ll
tell you how I couldn’t bring myself to tell you I wanted you, how my heart
yearned for you. I’ll tell you I was a coward. I’ll tell I was my mother’s
favourite coward.
I’ll tell you that I have done a bit of soul searching. And I
realized I hate myself too much to ever love anyone deeply. I’ll tell you that I
have never really trusted people completely and I believe deep down them they
are self-absorbed individuals who have no regard to how others feel about
them. I’ll tell you I found out that
there’s too much compromise in a relationship and you give up too much. Trouble
is I didn’t have anything to give up, I don’t have anything to compromise on
yet. May be never, I can’t rule out that fact. I had poetry, and I’ll tell you
how I couldn’t stand the staleness of the words that stared at me if they were
meant for you.
**
Its everyone’s sacred longing to belong somewhere, to belong
to a people who appreciate you and who make the world more appealing, like an
orchard, bustling with bees and blossoming flowers, where you seek temporary
refuge upon hitting a turbulence. Everybody has that place but I have never
accepted mine. I live in denial. I live like I don’t belong anywhere. Where
would I take you when I don’t belong anywhere?
I am in a prison of some sorts, a self-created prison. It’s
here that I engage in bouts of self-loathe. It’s here that my confidence waned
and I have tried several times to recapture it. It’s here that plenty of times
my dreams have flickered brightly but often oscillate between brightness and
pitch black darkness. I love the darkness more, no one can see my obsessions.
Lastly, it’s my prayer the paths you take on this world will
cross with someone you are compatible with. I pray that you have the wisdom to
distinguish between good people and bad people. I pray that your paths avoid
people that will bring you misery. I pray that you will find happiness wherever
you go.
And I do pray that I touched your life in some way as small
as it might have been. I pray too, that I didn’t touch you as significantly to
warrant mourning upon my demise.
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