And yet here we stand.
At each other’s end of the rope–
Unmoving, unable, unresolved
To let go, to leave things be
To accept the finality of this act
To accept the truth of this farce that is
Our lives intertwined–
“Why?” I asked you,
“What have we gotten ourselves into?”


And yet here we stand.
The crossroads we probably crossed too fast
The dilemma we chose to answer in haste,
This– whatever this is,
And the fact that we pretend that we are happy
With each other’s supposed happiness.


And yet here we stand.
I, in the comfort of his arms, knowing this is where I should be–
You, within her reach, thinking you made the right and the wrong choice at the same time,
Asking me to be happy so you’d be happy,
So you could be the martyr and I, the heartless one?
So I could feel the guilt of choosing when you yourself had given up on choosing?


And yet here we stand.
But, WHY?


You knew I would’ve stayed,
Had you asked me to.
You know I would’ve done it,
Without regrets, too.


But why, must we stand here?
When you could just walk away?
When we both could just walk away?


I sit here,
And I might as well be dead–
Stuck in a seemingly perpetual day
Of pretentious smiles and interest.
Forced to show the barest hint of concern
When in truth I’d rather be in bed,
Alone with my thoughts
Or perhaps a song in my mind–
Anything away from this,
Anything away from here,

I sit here,
Feeling undead–
As if the light inside is no more lit,
But the muscles tweak and work, down to the tiny bits.
But the rest of me
Is begging, longing, crying
For the lofty bed I left this morning,
For the warmth left in my bed from last night,
For the folds and creases I could sink myself into.

I sit here,
And the unbearable urge won’t let me sit still–
To write, to think, to free my mind,
To say something, to jump, to speak,
To sing, out loud, alone.
To create, and destroy,
Until there is nothing left,
Nothing else to do,
But to, again, create.

I sit here,
For a few more hours,
Just a few more hours–
Four and a half, in fact,
Just a few more hours
Til I can close my eyes
For days and days on end
Til I go back again,
Til I sit here, again.


beat. beat. beat.
a faint beat.
thump. thump. thump.
a tiny lump.

give it a little time.
this little silent mime.
slowly growing in its own time.
oblivious of mine.

little did I know.
little did anyone know.
it was changing.
itself. and me.

soft. soft. soft.
I thought of myself as soft.
till now. till now.
that I could be even more.

with just the thought of you.
moving on your on.
in the small ocean of your own.

teared up.
with just the image of you.
blooming into something beautiful.
from this seemingly ephemeral beat of yours.

I could not believe it, change.
how could you–
you, of all things.

I could not wait for it.
you, of all things.

Seven Days

A few weeks too early,
Few pounds too light,
Few inches too short,
Seven days after mine,
Seven days after mine.

Few too many years cut short,
Time’s a luxury none of us could afford,
If only we’ve started a few moons back,
Or a few more seasons later,
Then seven days later, after mine
Seven days after mine

The extremes
And their pulls
Of wanting, and not
Of keeping, and not
In seven days, seven days,
Seven days after mine.

Forgive me, forgive me
I’m sorry–
It’s killing me
As much as it kills you,
Probably less, probably more,
Nobody knows for sure,
But we’ll know, we’ll know,
In seven days, seven days,
Seven days after mine.


I was young then
When I first heard what a soul was.
Where is it then, I asked
Looking at my science book.
I only knew then
The muscles and the bones and said,
Oh, right
We can’t see it, can we?
And for some reasons I places it
Right between the two.

I didn’t know my own mind then,
Though now just barely–
Looking back, I thought
Sobriety was an indulgence I lacked in my childhood,
And now I have far too much,
And I’m aching, wanting
For that hazy bliss of innocence,
Detached from the rings and bells and whistles you’ve never heard as a child,
Adrift from the consciousness of life unraveling–
Far too engrossed with life itself.

How I ache for that bliss.
How I yearn for that bliss.


I had a dream
A heaven I was not prepared for
A heaven I know wouldn’t come here
Not in this lifetime,
Or perhaps
Not yet.

I had a dream
You were in my arms
Face was vague
But I could hear you laugh–
I almost dropped you
But you looked at me and smiled
And I cried
For all your fragility
You trusted me not to drop you

I am crying
Because I know I’d let you down
I’m sorry
I do not deserve to call you my own
I’m sorry
You made the wrong choice in choosing me
I’m sorry
I let you down right before we even meet
I’m sorry.


Conceived you were,
In my mind,
I let you live there,
Just there.
And nowhere else.

Conceived you were,
In my mind,
And all the things
We could’ve
Would’ve done
And more.

Conceived you were,
In my mind,
In my heart,
In my soul,
And maybe someday,
In my arms.