Aches That Never Cross Paths

 

    I fall into a heap, with pieces unsettled.
    My veins crack
    And thunderstorms play their strings
    Broken, detached and wounded from within.
    Through this explosion seeps in
    Silent numbness, like an honest thief
    Picking at the fallen crumbs of
    Heaviness that stays despite its own weight.
    Somebody's knocking at my door,
    Waiting for a chance to get in
    But I numbly keep my door closed
    Scared to let the hurt in again
    Scared to see my walls cracking
    And moths eating up the crestfallen chests
    That hide my deep insecurities
    And hushed vulnerabilities
    No more can I bear to wound the inner
    Sanctums, perhaps by the same person, 

    Again.
    One side of my heart's fighting this
    Numbness, this stone cold demeanor
    This other face of fear, this rust that
    Has been colouring my senses
    And eating away a part of me, for a while.

    The other side is fighting a different pain.
    It's a pain that seeps in, blowing hot waves
    That burns the veins time and again
    A pain of longing for the apparently lost
    A pain of uncertainty, of the unknown
    Of not being able to access the fiercely
    Locked chapters of that colourful book,
    The most colourful book I've ever read.
    The one that means the world to me
    Playing hide and seek through the 
    Never ending maze, the end of which is

    Ambiguity.

    I knock at that door, to decipher this
    Unexplained silence, tapping at the locks
    Careful enough not break the hinges
    But all that approaches me are waves of
    Silence, that hit the rock bottoms of my
    Mind, creating holes that fill up the pain.
    The pain grows, day by day, till it reaches
    The throat, choking air streams that wait
    To escape and merge with the storms outside.

     Here I am, sitting on edges, with the 
     Misty air dashing across my face and deep
     Into my senses, in the open terrace
     That overlooks
     The lighted bar club filled with music and dance
     The Protestant church that gets ready for
     Tomorrow's Sunday Mass in great vigour
     And the endless stretch of building blocks,
     Roads and towers that adorn these 
     City outskirts, fresh and vibrant unlike
     The tiring heart that droops with seething pain.

     There's nothing I can do, than to war with words
     And try scribbling out this pain that crushes me
     Pouring out the numbness, the love and the torment
     Hoping for an answer among these self knit words
     Knowing not what to do, and what should not be done
     Tears falling in sudden jerks from the depths
     And the heart tied to a knot
     Which only the lost can untie
     So I wait endlessly, without hope.
     Numbness is a full stop.
     A big full stop.
     But love knows no bounds, and so does pain.

     - Vinaya Mary

       16.09.23