The day you crossed all the limits of stooping low, the first thing I did was painting you black in the photo frame you gifted me. I told myself, if satisfaction would have a color, it would have been black, with teary-eyed laughs! My therapist suggested to throw that frame away but I hung it there, on my bedroom wall. I changed my sleeping direction so that every morning I can see you like that and smile, remembering everything. Every dark fucking night I spent like an insane staring at the ceiling, crying, laughing; every morning I didn't want to wake up and see the sun.
That frame is still there but with flowers, butterflies and happiness drawn on it. That frame is still there with my happy face on it, my happy face without you.-
"TAKING CARE" of the "PARENTS"
while "ALIVE" is better than
Buying the beautiful "PHOTO FRAME"
for them after "DEATH" ...-
our hearts too
are photoframes.
without a change-door
at its back, and the
vanity of being removed
from the bedside table
when our eyes grow tired.
we carry it buried in our chest.
while few rear hopes,
most are conflagrated
pits of memories,
stroking souls to weep;
quietly, and without tears.-
A PHOTO-FRAME with a photo of our childhood surely brings TEARS.... As it takes us in the memory lanes of that lovely childhood!!!🤔🤔😭😭
-
I realised,
when I shaved my beard today, after six months.
Tears rolled down my cheeks,
split up when they touched my scars.
Took me down the memory lane,
when she told me to leave,
slammed the door at me.
Crashed, while I had my mind off the road,
I fell & hurt myself, though not for her this time.
Was in confusion, to treasure or to rue,
those tears.
Didn't even have a photo of us, together,
to recollect, our memories,
still nostalgia, zoned me out.
Was I blind? Or she just couldn't see?
While her only complain was about people not being constant,
couldn't she count, the time, I stayed?
Far away yet so close,
always did remain just "anyone" for her.
Perhaps it's fate, or her,
the scars are permanent, but she's gone.
As I shed some more tears,
I enquired, myself, that,
with all the unsteadiness,
and scars she's given me.
Who'd accept me?
Or would I ever accept,
someone else?
-
There was a time when your smile stirred my silence...
Today I am trapped inside the verses of poetry penned on your absence.-
There was a time when we use to talk whole night regardless of any time , i use to talk and you hear me and when you use to talk i hear but now when you are no more so only i talk and may be you use to hear me somewhere but never answers me as photoframe dont speaks, Miss you Grandmaa..
-
When i was convincing myself
To forget you
The picture of yours
Behind mine in the photo frame
Conveyed a different story-