Poetry for Thought

Title: June

You didn’t send me your overly seductive birthday message.

And I find myself wondering if this is (finally) over between us,

This dance of conversation between the silences.

I found myself reading our old messages, emails – filled with promises,

“I will never stop loving you”

“You make me better”

“I’m sorry for being an asshole, but you are the best thing that happened to me, and I will never stop loving you”

You and me are a faint memory now, the relationship,

But between those blurry flashbacks,

Some stand out like a flood light, lighting up my weakest and strongest moments.

You, my love, are light and dark,

An addiction and a rehab,

I want to hurl abuses at you,

And at the same time….

Pull you close into a warm embrace.

I’m jaded now; carefully stitching words to all the new people I meet,

I didn’t say ‘I love you’ to one lover until we broke up.

I’m jaded now;

I say ‘I love you’ to everyone, afraid of losing them.

So is it finally over between us?

Poetry for thought

title:
How to ache?

It aches sometimes,

Or maybe it aches all the time,

Maybe the ache has always been there,

Maybe it hides behind all the motions of life.

Life must be lived I am told over and over,

But how do you live, when there is a hurt, an ache,

Always searching a wound to penetrate,

Searching for a way to exist, exit.

Which means, every situation, every moment,

In the algorithm of the mind, it must answer to this ache,

The mind must find a way to release this into the world,

Or keep it within, having lonesome conversations,

Inside the ever changing world of ideas, beliefs, emotions, blood vessels…

The mind and the ache have many conversations,

Most often the mind wins, the heart cajoles, sings lullabies,

The mind beams a proud smile,

Watching the ache bloom into a flower.

Like a parent, the mind and heart know that this isn’t over,

There are more conversations to come,

Life will spiral, the mind and heart will need to learn new things,

New languages, new worlds will be presented in front of them,

While I keep living, learning and listening,

The mind and heart keep a watchful eye.

But the ache, like a wilted flower will show up,

With tears streaming, with anger raging, and silence screaming.