it takes a lot of nerve
to make the final cut
to fade into the night
however hellish the days
and the chord that delivers
you reluctantly to life
takes its revenge slow
and sweet
it took a while for the fading of the light to register. for aritra to realise that the day was ending. a part of felt uncharacteristically petrified. would he survive a night in this horrible place. as the irrational human mind tends to do, his couldnt come to terms with his new reality. anamitra the bright shining star of ambajinagar, had left home to steal the fire of the gods. rejected the fate of mere mortals. crept out in the night. left behind his the brave but young brother. father. mother. the good the bad the joys and sorrows of ordinary mortal life, in search of a higher purpose. and he anamitra, had fallen into a cave he couldnt climb out of, because he had been to lost in his destination to look where he was going. time and again his thoughts went to his brother, brave but young.
an surreal training on bereavement management
and we are asked to write names of four people on four slips
then we give up two, and one is taken away
and i realise your name wasnt on the slip
i am startled by my basic instinct,
i search inside me for the answer
like we hunt for a bus pass in our cavernous handbags
after an age i realise
how could i write your name for a game of chance
you are a part of me, are you not?
just like you always said
flesh of your flesh, blood of your blood
dirty murky blood
shame tainted blood
it's late
cant sleep
beautiful day
day of getting by
and keep the devils out
in the far corners of the carpet (swept under)
getting by, with a little help from friends (and the spririts)
but now the golden sunlight has faded
and the wind howls as loud as a giant
and trees rustle like frightened deer
and bizzarely, all the geese have walked away from the loch
and stalked across the meadow
all the way home
hello geese
but now i cant sleep
dead-end dreams
and most of all
the humiliation of being
and the emptiness of the emptiness
unlike what they say, i think,
to have never loved at all, would be one thing
but loved and lost, and still hopelessly love
buidling castles of lies and delusions
that makes a man, a giant, melt like a sugar doll
in a bowl of rum
to to watch, just breaks your heart
dont cry baby, baby please dont cry
but its not me you want, is it, got me or not
and where trhe fuck would i find you another her?
i can hit record
and replay though
turn around your prophesies
i love irony
the blade in skin irony
the warm soft blood irony
does the iron in the blood ever rust?
but outside the wind rustles
never loud enought to drown the thoughts

august came and went. left masks and muscles tired from clenching, and the cracks beginning to show

you keep dying
you die a million deaths
in every story
and every new person that dies
you die again
and now its almost time for you to die
like you die anyway, every year
and i wait
in tense anticipation
28 days to go
and then we'll die once more
this will be our last year
in this place you died with me
down the streets
by the church
in the highways
down highways and graves
where i waited
liar liar
promise breaker
wont you come back to me?
ghost of my haunting, dearly beloved
best friend, root, and gradener
how dare the years try to smudge
the lines of blood let
when the the burning sharpness of the pain
is the only real things i have left