Tuesday, January 21, 2025
Year : 2, Issue: 21/strong>
POETRY
by Faiza Ramim
It’s been so long since we last spoke that I don’t think I can talk to you without confessing something.
There you were, standing before me
Returning from the dead in an unsolicited resurrection.
Or maybe it wasn’t unsolicited.
I was a long way from the shore
This pen in my hand, the only thing keeping me afloat
And i held on to it so tightly, my knuckles turned white
but the grip became loose
The farther i went into solitude, the more i could feel myself liquify
Until i became the body of water.
that deceives.
that never looks the same.
This is what solitude is to me.
To become farther than the farthest thing until I became a body of darkness
And they kept asking me why i looked so blue all the time
Maybe ‘cause no one came close to see anything underneath.
“You know, for the longest time i wanted to be left alone.
Something about kafka and venturing too deep into solitude.
And i was content.
At least i think so.
Or maybe i had become accustomed to it.
I found no reason to look for an out or be sad about it
“You know how it is. It is what it it is.”
“And what do you want now?”
I don’t look at you
I don’t think about it too much.
Too much time alone with yourself, doesn’t let you get away with lies.
There isn’t much room for secrets and i would tell you anything needed you only ask.
“I think I resurrected you”
You look at me like I’m insane. Maybe I am.
“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry it must have been an inconvenience for you; being brought from the dead. I think I only wanted you hard enough when there was a pen in my hand”
“You didn’t answer my question”
And I remember being liquid,
being deeper than the deepest blue.
I remember being so sick of it all that
at dusk I swallowed the sun and became it.
Because then I was still alone but i burned.
I was destructive, I was intimidating
I was far but i was powerful.
I was hiding in plain sight.
Because only a fool would challenge a sun into a staring contest.
Until now.
Until you.
So I confess, my Icarus, I’ve never had anything to hide anyway.
“Love me”
“What?”
“Love me.
I want to know how it feels”.
