I thought and I racked my brains
To remember why the date seemed familiar
I could not recall
And today, It clicked.
I cannot believe, I did not remember.
It struck as momentous and yet I could not place my finger on it
Slippery slope, this memory is
Eroding away, identities, relations, time.
You are my ghost, you pass through me
When you smile at me, I revolve around you
Like moon is to earth
I am to you, wisps of the wind
Playing tricks, I see through you
As you pass right through me for you are my ghost
A friendly wisp of the wind, surrounding me.
Expressive eyes, hateful eyes
Of a child watching his mother being chastised, for reasons he doesn’t yet understand.
Curious eyes, hateful eyes
Of a long lost friend to jealousy, with a fake smile clapping mechanically
Weary eyes, hateful eyes
Of a person caught up in chains, as less deserving get ahead, watching in vain
Determined eyes, hateful eyes
Running away with heart filled with loathing, into the arms of solitude
Hateful eyes, concealing eyes
Reflecting hurt, invisible
Gathering storm, hence the silence
Waiting to unleash the love gone bad.
Pack your bags, time to move on
This adventure has ended, so has the story
Its time to change the book, or flip another page?
A new chapter, is it?
Oh I wish it was another book.
A hard cover with a pretty front face, tempt me to open it
And start again.
For its time to lose what you gained
Leave behind things you don’t need, free people who want to be freed
Set your sails in line, the tide is coming in
And it is strong. It will carry you away from the coast
Then it will be just the sea, and I will play the old man?
Hemmingway would be proud, I will throw the line
And catch my fish.
Not a moment to lose, its time to forget the old, purple, bluish bruise
The clock is ticking and its the eleventh hour, the end is near
They say that time is an illusion but why is it that it’s the needles that I fear?
No more will I lament
Gone are they, no traces left
So many cries, I cried. So many tears shed.
Screaming into the pillow, all those stories unsaid
Taken, no goodbyes
No post cards to wait for
Its been long, and longer still
Your face is blurred today
My memories weak
I miss you every day, I do
But now, no more eulogies for you.
Cracked mirror shows nothing but
A face, unable to move its eyes
from the distortions of time.