In that cold room, time was frozen still
It was snowing again, footsteps sounded
Like the blossoming of the night stars, weary.
Something must have withered in me :
When i came to, it was morning
And you were gone, only your
Damp voice resounded in the chambers
Of my remembrance, dipped
In infinite jest.
Strange, isn't it? we exist only
In the present tense and things tend to fade away when
We place them behind us.
You are fading in parts; your face is blurred
Your micro-aggressive ways
Your nervous laughter and
Your deliberate act of sucking all the
Air in the room by just
Breathing.
What I will remember
Until what seems to be the rest of my life
Is this bitterness my last words to you left
In my exploited throat -
It's why I'd rather walk away from things that
I cannot change, after you.
Sometimes, on restless nights, as the
Wind bellows and scratches at
The window, I reach out to
That cold, cold, insufferable spite
Looming at the bottom of the well.
I still
Haven't forgiven you, as you rest,
Decaying.
On moist nights I revisit that
Cold room to watch you, as I bask in self
Loathing, I spy Medusa as
She struggles to claw her way out of
Your pipes, and
Try to remember what is it that echoed
In the deepest parts of my conscience on
The way here,
My fingers are going numb
Petals of dead flowers fall on the silent
Snow piled over my thoughts,
Consciousness fades and static bursts
Like a festival of everything forgotten,
My chaos is soft, for a change, shes says: next time
Try not to swallow your rage
Next time, barf out the poison so
You wouldn't have to erupt so gloriously
Unravel like a loose sweater when pushed
To the wall, then spend a life time gathering
The ashes, knitting your sanity back in place, see
Love, you haven't won the argument, the dead just
Can't talk back.
