Experiences, Imaginations, Life and Me
As my breath become smaller
Each year each day little by a little
As I feel something takes over
A dark necessities
Of tomorrow
As I walk slowly towards a room without doors
And the room full of doors without walls
I need to sleep now
It’s already been late.
Lets start with the fact that I
Lost my pen safely hidden in the attic
Of the mess of us
And I hold a plastic red pen now
To tick and cross my students copies
And struggle to sustain
So Someday when I come home
I will go through all the stuffs
And find my pen
Only to find out the room is already a mess
Of people walking in and out
Of people not moving staying put
He said, people will come and stay
That’s the bargain that’s the burden
Accept it to stay
So I clean the kitchen
Attic remains the same
So I laugh and drink and smoke up
And my pen remains hidden
So I write about space
In digital fonts
There, lots of dos and donts
He asks why are you going away
Reading my stories
I answer
For space
And the day passes,
Foodless wordless
Swearing never to write again
Ain’t it better sleeping next to him
And other few men
Intoxicated
Peacefully
In a queen bed
I don’t even take that much of space
As he had made sure,
I am a tiny little cat
Stuck in between his legs
And walls where
I wrote,
Space……………….
Like million other things
And my pen
A few meters distance
Have I traveled in red lips
A cuppa tea at 7 am
In morning just like me
Half left for a mess
I can clean
I have seen
There
I have been
He said
Winter is coming
As Coldness in lonely bed
Wakes me up perfect
For a hot bath
Braless walks on street to work
The pale rainy morning
Would have said the same
Winter had come already
So I stacked up the woods
Of old seasonal hugs
Dusted off my raggedy blanket
From yesterday’s sores
And its time to put on my winter boots
Walking with sounds
No I won’t
Call you with love
Anymore
In morning
Tak tak a friend flirted
My boots make music
Alarm sounds
My coffee cups are still at bed
Its stale and cold now
As you said
Winter has come.
Few porcelain cups
Went back to its original states
Some herbal digestives melted
On the floor of rented luxury
The tenure ends
And we go back
On fighting for our original states
Five sticky notes
And a revolving fan
Has more pain than I am
In healed cut marks
And guitar strings
Have more stories than Mine
And what do I wait for here?
My knifes are rusty
In maggots filled kitchen
The sink stinks of weeks left over
I my walls are clean like its not mine
And I dream of the cockroach
Died almost a year ago
I wait to go back there
I wait for love
Someday, In few years later,
When I am something
I wanna stand in a rooftop and say out loud
This uneducated, forgetful, impatience liar is my man
And people will look at you with pride
And hope
Of fixing their own messes,
For trying
For loving
Make yourself the best man
– not a perfect man
I just wanted,
Like everything you chose
Over me, in my worse situation,
Your priorities over me
Those important situations
Where you had to leave me shaking
Anxious and depressed
For friends
For work
For you
I just fought for a moment like that.
I wanted to feel how does it feel
When you chose me
Over everything.
You said I am broken
From every aspects
Depressed and don’t wanna get better
You said to get up and be positive
And do something,
Something creative.
I am broken,
I am lost, scared
My shaky hands can’t hold a pencil
My anxious brain gives me nothing
But exhaustion, your need, your comfort
I want you
To fix myself
“Scared”
I am sorry I cannot create a piece of art
Right now I cannot be strong enough
But Today,
I cooked maggi
For myself
With schezwan sauce and dried oregano flakes.
-and I will change my tshirt next
I am giving up
On art
Art destroying me
I want a stupid job
I want to work for money
I want a lot of money
At the end of the month
So I can buy me happiness
The sound of the sea
Mist of the hills
Busy day and sleeping pills night
It won’t remind me of the art shop I wanted with you
I won’t remind me of our balcony where I wanted paint with you
It won’t remind me to live
Live the best of me with you
At the corner rack
Under seven month old dusts
I never dared to touch
I never bothered to clean
There it was
The love that remains
In some contacts
Archived dreams hidden well
Round beds in soft pillows
Still warm in body heat
Still messy in nicotine guilt
There it was
The love that remains
In glowing five inch screen
I looked but never dared to look
Same gibberish stacked wish
Some moments from my wish list
I have given
For the love that remains
Brotipriya 