By Pankhuri Shrivastava
Don't ask me to talk
for I have gifted my words
to many and silence to none.
Don't ask me to stay
for I have not known
how to make homes out of people.
Don't ask me to blink
for I don't know how to unmake
what I have made of me.
Don't tell me
to use your privileges
for it reduces both my soul and spirit.
Don't tell me I am easy
for you don't know yet
what a piece of work I can be.
Ask me instead
where I begin
and I'll show you to my end.
Ask me instead
how I got here and I'll walk with you
on the roads I have taken
and haven't yet.
Ask me instead
what I am made of and I'll show you
where I break and how.
Let's just be.
For a minute.
Drunk on our favourite old music.
Sleep in the corner of our eyes. Happiness over the rest.
Blank thoughts between tailored memories.
Let's just be.
For a minute.
Dazed in the faded low light.
Staring at our shadows on the wall.
Staring at everything between us, now.
Staring at the beauty of the impermanence of the time we've labeled as ours.
Let's just be.
For a minute.
Before you leave. Before I let you go.
For happiness may not be in the forever as I have been told so often.
I smelt it in moments that were passing by unnoticed.
Let's just be.
For a minute.
The old-fashioned, two lost souls.
Swimming in a fish bowl, year after year.
Let's just be.