Smothering Silence

The tip of my tongue has given up on the idea of quitting your name between panting and promises  and my senses have deliberately corrupted me to believe that they are twined with yours.. My tears readily take the pain of blaming you and  just you when I am intoxicated and my heart is still unsteady, still struck in believing yours would make it catch the pace. People talk too highly about it and the relief of it But,  to grow out of this  will never be as serene as living in it Struggling with it fighting with it but never surrendering to it. I wouldn't say it's love that has kept me going, But the adventure of loving you just once and holding onto it forever. Kind of fell for you a little and used your cam.

I remember what I had felt a few years back,  when the poundings of my heart denied rest when my head couldn't keep up with the world and, my stomach had the hardest time digesting what I swallowed I remember going up to my mother when I couldn't entertain the trouble any longer because who else would you run to what she said is still deeply rooted inside my mind, "This is a phase baby and this shall pass." and you know,I believed in her. There was this another time, When things got fine I surrendered  to places to seek the solace,stillness had failed to provide I couldn't be more sane and settled, I thought I was strolling beside my mother listening her humming Just when she asked me if I was prepared for my roles now because who else would take the pain to ask and whatever she said this time eradicated whatever was deeply rooted inside my mind "I hope you'd do that soon because, This one too is a phase baby and this shall pass too." and you know...

From all the baggage we carried from our yesterday to all the transient dreams we placed ourselves in, We came making up the stories, we wished to hear to let them conceal the rumblings of our kins.  We hurled questions, objections, ideas of fear and rejections at each other's face probably everything our faces could bear.  We defied the questions and ideas of sins,  within the subworld we built from our souls, bones and skin.  Yet, when I traded my own, for this subworld, no sooner did I realise that it's too rich,too warm  too fine to acquaint my restlessness with a home.  But my disquiet needs a shelter.  Soon.  Very soon.  Tell me,  Would you mind if I burn the baggage and ditch the dreams?  Would you care if I take back my investment of words from the stories Would it be hard for you too, if I expose myself to those discontentments again?  Would you remember if I back out and for...

Not the last twitchy swirl Not the air between our spaces Not the chains, gates and doors Not the wakeful questions Not the hidden stars and skies Not the unabashed laughters Not the mutual magic we breathed Not the secrets that we vomited Not the obvious promises, we failed Not that one second in which we loved And knew that we loved.. Not them, Nothing of them, Nothing of you, Nothing of me Weave this story But maybe, Just maybe The wait, The patience, The pauses that lurk between us do.