Monday, 23 January 2017

on my fingertips I can count the number of friends
i've had since ten, twelve, nine years, and in between
but there's one i can't forget
i met Aloneness (A) in school, she was the dark mysterious girl in the backseat
who everybody wanted to know
but I liked colors and company and cold drinks, A and I only crossed paths
she would watch me take friends to the bathroom and back
she saw me skip lunch when by myself
I would run into her dining at restaurants, she needed no company
I thought she must have never skipped a meal

we stayed apart, A and I, our worlds were different, too different
but in college it got harder to find people to go the bathroom with me
they told me I could do it alone – travel from point A to B and B to E
those were the days when I saw A again
this time an old woman, she looked so free
while I missed talks and lectures because my friends were on leave
A was there learning about the Mahabharata and existential psychology
then one day I gave it a chance, told them I would go for the talk no matter what
stumbled up to the room, the lecture on the geography of time
the only empty seat right next to A
we didn’t say a word but we were friends
A would be there for bathroom trips and class to class expeditions
A filled in all the gaps that were killing me

as I grew older, A came and went
she changed faces too – next year she came in the face of a bearded man
we loved each other’s company
we’d sit and talk, we’d sit and stay quiet
we could be together but not quite so
A taught me to eat by myself, A embraced zoning out
A also sometimes laughed at my neediness
how I wanted to be around people
A believed in self-sufficiency

and now I’m here, A my best friend
but this time A is the face of a baby looking for someone who cares
this time A is shriveled and weak and bitter
this time there are birthdays with A and happiness with A and sadness with A
this time A has taken over my face
and I move and talk and speak to people
but A stays inside somewhere
A scolds me for eating lunch with people
A tells me to watch movies only with her
A says people will leave you
A cuddles me when they do
A tells me it’s alright, A tells me it’s fine
I tell A to quit for a bit
I beg A to let me fall in love again
but A is now my best friend
Aloneness refuses to leave me alone.

Saturday, 14 January 2017

We are fragile humans with a survival instinct
We die without morning coffees and outlive abuse
We giggle in terror, laughter is our reaction to fear
I have a friend with broken bones who will cycle uphill
They’ll peddle and sweat and peddle and sweat
Who hurts bad at each beautiful song
We are walking jars of shards of glass
And warmest cushions for those we love
We are the birds who fly with broken wings
The fragile humans with a survival instinct
poetry is back after months (what felt like years) of silence :')