One day my therapist asked me, ‘If you know being inactive and dormant won’t get you anywhere, and this is what triggers your depression then why don’t you move or try changing?’
‘It is like ice’, I replied, ‘Imagine being stripped naked and splayed out on it. The ice leaves cold burns on my skin. Air just makes me more aware of the sting so I don’t get up. I am afraid of the wind burning my skin. Lying there, on that block is all I have known. It feels like home.’
He told me that I can move. I’m braver than I think. I got my entire life to live. Temporary pain can prove to be relief forever. I still did not budge. He gave up and asked, ‘So you don’t want to get up?’
‘I do, but I’m waiting for the block of ice to melt. Somethings in life require more time than effort.’
So what becomes of the moment after happiness goes away?
Or when the sadness in your veins doesn’t feel foreign but a home?
What happens when physical and spiritual contradictions fade away?
He replied: Life, my love, happens even after every moment has passed away.
Tonight I drink
Drink to a man who is whole but not complete
He gives out his all but none at all
You crave more of him to numb the ache
When he is gone, you feel him beside you
The man who holds the power to build you up or break you down
Tonight I smoke
While, there is a knock on the door
I know its life
Routine is in its bones
With a baggage of past,future and present
It greets me with an ink and parchment
The other hand has a gun with six rounds
You bleed words tonight
You bleed the ache in your bones
Thinking, what a game played
My love, even beating hearts and breathing lungs are dead at times…