The ache.

There is this ache
That starts at the bottom of my neck
And ends at my heart.
But the pain never ceases.
I remember my head on your shoulder.
Watching your chest rise
And in perfect rhythm, fall.
And fall.
I wait for your warmth
To engulf my being again.
To hear your laughter.
And fill my heart’s hollow silence.
Oh what would I give
To watch you bury your face in my lap again.
To feel your smile reach my face.
And wish good riddance to these tears.
Hold me, from a far.
Lie with me.
Close my eyes, and put me to sleep.
And wake me up only when you’re here.




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Lines

Some lines should not be crossed. But they can be treaded, lightly. Then taut, and tense, and terse, Sometimes, can become blurred. Once indubitable;  Now, held more blithely. A line in the sand may shift with the tide. Those toeing it will notice first. Flitting eyes, fleeting times; Even the air holds its breath. Sinking into a granular minefield, Awaiting an intense inburst. Pressed together, lips form a line too. Reining reactions, concealing cogitations. Playful, pointed, piercing, Words and looks and touches. Bitten within, sometimes faltering. Evermore under observation. A thin line lives between foresight and folly. It holds much to read between. The safety within, the spur of beyond. What exists out there, what remains to be found? Who holds the line, who steps over? Once the line is drawn can it be unseen?
Read more

Fingerprints

There are a few fingerprints Etched upon this heart of mine. Of those I love. Of those I’ve loved. Of those I‘ve been loved by. Persisting from the basal touch, Immutable, till this day. Not propinquity, Nor time, it seems  Are things which they obey. Some exist in multitudes. Some, much more scarcely. A few, engraved; Potent, Ingrained. Crafting a bespoke labyrinth. Distinctive, each, mutative; Morphing the shape of my heart. Impressions indelible; Impacts ineffable; Enabling, endowing, en garde. A scant few I’d have scorched, But what could lighten the abyss? In obscurity, Murky, they remain, Cimmerian, even eclipsed.
Read more

Mind games

Out of sight out of mind But under the surface, What survives? Who decides? The tug of war unravels, But the push and pull persists. Stay vigilant, on roads winding; The drive, the view- it’s exciting. But mind over matter  Only works when it doesn’t. Latent longing, long unlearnt. Chronically choked and churned. Like a wildfire unleashed, Searing through autumn leaves. Scarlet surfaces, swiftly; Baring it all, briskly.  A one track mind may not foresee Under tangled roots, there is a seed. Redolent reverie, in the wind   wafts - Bear in mind, it’s all scattered, silent and soft.
Read more