I hold onto to our memories
like an infant grabbing a piece
of clothing,wrapping it in his
tiny fingers,naively managing a little more
attention towards himself
and in an unvoiced gesture of
do not leave me alone,yet!
I walk down those streets
with my right-hand empty
still dangling, still thirsty for your touch.
That in sometime soon,
those fingertips will feel the heat
of your hands brushing against mine.
That in any given moment
I’d see you standing alongside me
while I stop by our favorite ice-cream parlor.
And I would be suppressing the
sparks of surprise and laughter
and declare through my eyes confidently
the words I had practiced long enough
“I knew you’d come back”
precariously hiding the fright
of ‘what if’ you hadn’t.
I look at our old pictures
like they would suck me
in and allow me the pleasure
of reliving the moments
again and not once complaint or feel shy
like living beings say
‘for how long you’d keep looking at me?’
I feel I am stuck in memories of ours
There is no past or the future
but a series of moments halted
And time has stopped making sense.
I feel those moments burning alive
right in my chest
as if it’s happening right now.
I’m afraid of moving on
because those would try to give me
the wisdom of why letting of the
past is important.
I’m in no search of that wisdom,
that I want to stay stagnant
for some time.
Like water that doesn’t move.
getting stale and foul
from standing too long
And it doesn’t, on its own.
Lacking the development
or the essential minerals.
I, too, am adamant to move
as of now
doesn’t matter how much it is
corroding my brain.
I want to stay trapped
So I can face my bold decision
of choosing you over the world.
I want to stay there long enough
So that when I step out of it
I no longer awash with those memories
that made me fall for you.
So when I step out of it
there is no ‘You’ in me anymore,
And when I walk onto those streets again
I don’t imagine how would it feel
to be walking alongside you.
That I will make sure the
person I am talking to
is I, myself
& not you anymore.
Whenever I am absorbed
in love, in joy, in pain, in misery
I have been the one to
measure the abyss of each emotion.
That those depths
had always appreciated me
for accepting them throughout the end.