I don’t know when my world decided;
it would fall apart on me.
It had held on for so long, so desperately to rely only on myself;
to hope only in me.
But we can’t live on our own little islands;
and be only surrounded by calm seas.
The waves keep on weathering our carefully built defences;
like sand they crumble and flee.
And all the promises I made to never rely on someone else;
to never plead.
They scatter and fade like unspoken resolves;
As if they were never meant to be.
I wish there were days, moments or at least seconds;
where I could remember and love only me.
But my happiness has decided it needs to be tied to yours;
it has completely abandoned me.
I lie in wait,
as seasons pass.
They used to hope,
now they blur and fade.
The moon is disappointed,
in my will for the sun.
The wilting flowers disapprove,
of my inability to pluck.
Cobweb homes abandoned,
have come unspun.
The bees mundane,
don’t care to buzz.
I still lie in wait,
and more seasons pass.
The mind now annoyed,
at the heart’s lack of grace.
The body long weary,
of the soul’s mistakes.
The eyes have dried,
urging the tears to go.
They show very clearly,
open doors that are closed.
Shadows have abandoned whispering,
that you will come once more.
But I still lie in wait,
for this is all I know.
My seasons long stopped,
believing you were the pause.
My earnest hours only knew,
you as time.
My life, once mine,
now dreams of no foresight.
It only waits anguished and pained,
desperately hoping love won’t be in vain.
We live in a loud world where we crave singular experiences of infinite emotions in a finite time and space.
If I wanted ripples;
I would love a stone.
Be a tornado;
make me your home.
My mother toils;
everyday without fail.
She provides, she gives;
she never takes.
Hot meals, clean beds;
unconditional warmth and care.
She tells me, to work hard;
to do my utmost best.
And I the angry person I am, tell her;
“You want to live through me!”
When in my heart of hearts, I know;
O foolish woman! She doesn’t need to.
She had more spark than you ever will;
but she chose to love you, her family.
She chose to sacrifice, with no ill will;
to be the canvas for all your plans.
For my mother, she toiled;
she knows very well.
This world is not easy, it’s a labyrinth;
she needs me to be strong and have an iron will.
To survive, with my strength;
and not be someone else’s legacy to fulfill.
And no matter how much people say, “Things are going to be fine.”
This is your heart, this is your mind and only you have the right to decide.