we

the heart feeds off
the notion of you.
its a parasite
it pumps venomous thoughts into me.
my pride
chisels you off the heart.
flake by dead flake
i am reduced
life less alive.

the present cleaves
the past bounds.

pride can only pry off
so much...
the rotting remains,
the imagined threads
now keep us in a sickly embrace.

tangled and apart.
dark and in limbo.
we, do not make a 'we'.

a part of us buried
slimy, unhappy
its hands trying to grasp
in two different directions.

- Ajinkya Pawar

Comments

A S said…
wow!

I can relate to it :(

beautiful language
Sat Aug 22, 04:37:00 PM GMT+5:30
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