Music

23.12.2010

He left me for dead on the side of the road. that is why he doesn't speak to me any more. he is ashamed.

Perhaps he thought I would die and vanish. Zip. And so it wouldn't matter.

Or else, he thought, he would get away, leave for the new land he hears so much about.

When he found he couldn't leave though,

I think that is when he started locking his door.

Staying in doors. 

It's as if he is afraid of me casting my eyes on him. 

He lowers his face in shame when he sees me.

He hides himself behind shame, and

he escapes from it only through contempt.

My heart breaks.

It breaks all over again.

Because,

for what ever reason, he walks away still

and leaves me by the side of the road.

He leaves

he withdraws.

He does not let us be happy in one another's presence.

He shuns me, he shuts me out, he looks away from me with contempt.

The way a mother looks at an unwanted child.

An unloved child,

that no one will ever allow it to love them

and be glad in their presence.

That no one will ever show gladness that it be alive!

A child that just needs to get on with it.

'You don't matter' he says

'You don't matter anywhere near as much

as my insecurities matter to me.

So I'll be off now.

Be gone.'

And he walks away, with his heart cuddled in his arms,

comforting it.

He walks away, looking as if

as if I had rejected him.

Insulted his greatness.

It breaks my heart.

It breaks my heart.

Bre (as in bread) 

a! aeye

aches it.

Can you hear the sound of that? 

You can't hear the sound of it if you haven't heard it in your ribs!

You can't taste the honey

if if

you have not ever tasted it.

How can you recall the taste?

Oh my old friend Poetry. My old friend poetry. You have always been by my side. You have always let me be honest.

You have always saved my life.

Oh what is a cliche? It is nothing to you unless you taste it.

How can you taste the water if you 

have never tasted

it.

Oh

my old

friend Poetry.

It has been so long since you were last by my side.

I haven't seen you here helping me so since high-school.

Remember?

Remember those days when you were my only friend

and I sat in the school yard. Shouting!

Shouting with my heart,

sitting ever so calm and quiet. You were my only friend. My most trusted companion.

Do you remember Poetry when we sat?

I have been saved from so many deaths.

So many deaths by the side of the road.

That my life is no longer mine.

Take it. I will do what you want.

I am a servant now. 

When I was shouting, I was free.

But I was dying.

I died, and people walked away.

I died twice

thrice.

And now I am dead.

Only God picked me up.

Dead.

And now I am his servant.

Do you remember Poetry? 

When I was still alive?

When I shouted?