Swaying Silhouette

Look.

Just look at it.

The names entwined

Carved onto it.

The fights ensued.

Until you were a silhouette.

Beckoning to be followed.

 

I never did.

I should have

Caught up with you

Before the ropes did.

Before you became

Just a silhouette

Swaying.

 

I still see them.

The ropes hanging down,

The branches swaying.

But, today it will end.

Uprooted away.

Sour reminders to be erased.

Yet, I still see you.

 

The ropes were burnt.

Then and there it burned.

Yet, I still see them.

Hanging down the ropes

Your silhouette.

Swaying.

Just swaying.

 

Swaying Silhouette

Autumn Locks

You smile.

I can’t help but do the same.

The pain won’t creep out through the skin.

The tears won’t see daylight.

You’re happy.

You pretend to be.

You’re strong at the weakest times.

I try, try hard, not to cry.

The locks.

More and more they fall.

You count and make it seem

Just like one of those games kids play.

I blame, everyone I can.

Fate. God.

Who is at fault?

This life is just a waiting game.

We stand right at an impasse.

Guns drawn, we won’t back down.

Not now, not never.

This is just a waiting game.

A game where the stakes are high.

The locks.

They fall more and more.

Just like those autumn leaves.

Fall and freeze.

It will do.

Only to blossom some more.

 

 

N.B.: This is for you. You shall blossom too. Spring isn’t too far out. :)

Autumn Locks

Nothing Matters

My shift should have ended half an hour ago. I hoped he was in a good mood. He hated waiting out there. I couldn’t do anything about it. My ward was always busy. We got all the cases as soon as they were fixed up at the A & E. You cannot help but get tangled in those people’s lives. It was only a few minutes spent at each bed. Surely, he’d understand. This is what I did; this is what I always want to do. I’d been up all night. I just wanted to get home. I just wanted to get into that car and see a smile welcoming me. All I wanted was someone to say that I made a difference.

I walked swiftly from the locker room all the while smiling edgily at the nurses. He was there, at the usual spot. I wonder how many cigarettes he had smoked by now. My muffled apology was met with a stony silence. I wondered if I should speak. What shall I ask about? As he turned towards Salisbury Road, I knew we’d be stuck right in the middle of the rush hour. More than the waiting, he hated being late for work. It had become his only solace. I offered to get off half way. There was no reply. He merely slowed down near the tube station and I got off. No one spoke. Not a word. Not a wave. Was I even there? I couldn’t help but shed a tear as he sped away. This was the real life. There was no escape from reality. Life was grim. As I stood at the platform, I knew that nothing really mattered. There was a sudden gush of wind from the approaching train. Nothing really mattered now. It never did.

Nothing Matters