Dear Gilbert,

I had thought i could live vicariously through you.
that i could lie like concrete, passive! and let all what comes roll over me
while you wrote poetry on some remote island, your mind drowning and your organs imploding.

You wrote poetry so i didn't. I could read simply
I could spend days in dullness and live inside the fences of this irredeemable being.  
'Tear it down' you said 'we find out the heart only by dismantling what the heart knows'
So i kept digging into my chest, hoping to rip it out one day.

You are dead today, and i know that you chose it no more than i chose my birth.
I know that you've refused heaven
that you don't want to live in peace.
Yet a blur sets in compulsorily, some semblance of grief
Just like our unknown compulsion to love landscapes and snow.

I don't know what to wish for you, I don't know if to wish at all.
I just clutch on to your poems while drifting away in southern currents.


Are You Nobody Too? said...

i like it

Are You Nobody Too? said...

i dont know if i commet it was posted,
so i write again,
it is deep, sad, it was like a flash that make you wake up

little boxes said...

reminds me of Septimus Warren Smith and Mrs Dalloway.
sigh Reema, you write beautifully.

Anonymous said...

I love it. Only words can make a person feel for another, as your words do.

Anonymous said...

This is the most beautiful blog post i have read so far. You are gifted when it comes to words. Other than that, I hope you are doing well. God bless you.

Walter B. Quiet said...

You are a kindred spirit. Thank you

Walter B. Quiet said...

You're a kindred spirit. Thank you