That’s the first thing you say when we met after 6 years.
We were best friends then.
In my mind, we always were.
When you asked the first question,
I knew, that we
will always be best friends,
but new people to each other.
This is how I feel when I meet my school friends after months.
Parvathi and I are attempting Rebirth in April in July, prompts created by JR Rogue and Kat Savage.
It is 4:32 AM.
I am not asleep.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be.
All the events since the last month have eaten bits and pieces
of me, slowly.
I get up to make myself some tea.
I pad around my apartment,
seeing but not noticing.
Hearing all the early morning noises
but not really listening.
I turn the radio on for company,
but all the chanting and the mantras makes me feel sick.
I have no clue what this this about, but I had other things in mind. But I am typing this at 6:50 AM, so yay me!
“What are we doing?”
“We’re having lunch, like we always do.”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Yesterday, you screamed at me.
You were saying that I didn’t pay enough attention to you
when all I ever did was physically attached to you!”
These prompts, The New Renaissance, were created by Tyler Kent White and Amanda Torroni, and I am attempting these with Parvathi over at Queen Talks.
Stargazing is not
fun. You sit for hours and
hours, straining your
neck and your eyes dilating to
adjust to the darkness and
then to the stars, far
far away. More than that, the
stars are a painful
reminder of you. That some
thing so brilliant is right
in front of you, yet
unreachable. No question
of giving up though.
I missed one! I’ll try catching up real soon!
This is the Spring Palette for the Heart, curated by Parvathi and Me.
I am eating breakfast when my food catches and I cough.
My mother offers me water, and I take it gratefully.
My father pounds my back, and I am all right again.
I wonder who thought of me this early morning.
One person comes to my mind, but i dismiss it.
I’ve gone so long without her. I go on longer,
even if it means that I have lost some of the best parts of me.
I wake up sneezing.
Not one or two,
but like a series of mines that set off together
when I walked the wrong path.
I snort with laughter, thinking how in a sense
is true, when I was with him.
I push the thought away, as best as I could,
and pushed my blankets off to bathe.
Again, so much pressure to answer a prompt inspired by the Backstreet Boys. I listened to Incomplete as I began writing this and this poem is not even a little bit close to good as the song. Still, I tried!
This is the Spring Palette For the Heart, by Parvathi and me.
I sit in the cafe, waiting.
There are board games around and
I see Christmas decorations are up already.
I sit in a comfy cushiony chair
and stare at the door.
I hate that you are on hibernation mode in Winter.
I never get to see you.
I need a break from life. My poems are getting crappier and crappier by the day.
We’re sitting across each other on the single coffee-brown sofa with the black coffee colour glass-top table in between us and I’m stirring in sugar while
No, I’m not nervous at all! My hands aren’t shaking or sweating with trepidation of wha you’re going to say, not at all!
It’s called exuberance and I
No, I’m not stirring in sugar so hard that my coffee spills, because i need to do something with my hands to prevent me from reaching across to you and show you just
I love you.
I’m only doing this because the damn sugar isn’t dissolving. You put your hand on mine stirring sugar and I look up sunnily smiling at you, even though I want to sob at you feet. You shake your head, whisper, “ಆಗಲ್ಲ*“and you walk away from me
as I sit still and stare off
* Aagalla: Cannot in Kannada.
The Kannada touch here because I felt i was losing it. Which is quite possible.
I tried prose poetry. I don’t know how successful i was i executing it, but I tried!