Last Verse

Poet, Artist, Lover of Math
Recent Tweets @AtlasiaInk
Posts tagged "rant"

Are tears shed because of frustration or cowardly-ness? Are they a sign of weakness? A release of some sort? Are they a sign of giving up or giving in?

They seem the answer to every thing. Or rather the answer to the screwed logic of certain few.

Is a woman not successful without a man? I was told, a woman needs a man’s shadow to be successful, so that no fingers are pointed at her.

Really? Really? Like really?

We used to talk all the time, what happened? did i perhaps slip along the way? or did things drag you away?

each drop of time was just a whisper of tomorrows and yesterdays to be born. and i cheerfully swallowed the murmurs so that my stomach filled with pinpricks of hellos, yeses, happy-s and hugs. A concoction of cheer! a warmness filled with sun simmered in me. And i breathed deep. and didn’t even need to smile ‘coz the smile was always there, it bled through and saturated my every atom and they danced and fizzled with unbelieving energy and hope. because there was always a tomorrow. always another smile and peals of laughter. always another. always…

now i’m left listening to the empty ringing of my ears. where did the whispers go? the teasing tics and mischievous piercing gazes. where did they all disappear? i’m feeling quite alone, because these walls amplify the emptiness in my stomach. and the depleted sunshine in my mind. and my body, no my shell its see through, i’m no longer that prism of existence that expanded and exploded shine.

We used to talk
all the time,
what happened?
did i
perhaps
slip along the way?
or did things
drag you away?

I live eat sleep breathe poetry…from ballads to sagas to eulogies and epilogues, from when I wake, I whisper verses of goodbye to sleep, to hellos to bright faces and couplets to tease his smile into being. From lyrical steps to head-forth advances upon social measures to perhaps pointless and foolish saunters just to bring about laughter, except the laughter never grips hold of the one that it was called upon by… and on it goes. A möbius strip of a ride if you will…