Here you said it

still waters

clear

piercing my heart

with a dagger.

.Scared.

Last night,

I woke up,

To the opening of the door,

It was my sis,

who crawled in,

discreetly,

to the room,

Last night,

what you said,

my eyes,

unable to wet my cheek,

still burnt,

red,

woke me up,

strained,

scared,

alone,

in the wee hours of this morning.

Bitter Sweetness

What do i write, that even after the sabbatical was over long time back, it looks like we are on a day to day 'leave me alone' spree... The War of Words so rightly put by the Tech freak of mine.

Where are we going, when will we reach, i dont know, but we are spoiling it all, minute by minute...

We were the ones who could completely understand each other at one point of time and in the least made an attempt to, but thats past for me now, at least. The gates of communication are closing down...

Day after day we seem to be in an attempt to cook it as bitter as we can, to chop and put the ingredients so dashed with a whole lot of pain that it tastes better by each passing day.

And yes, we cannt get the past, just like the dish that has already been eaten cannot be eaten again.

But are we aloof of the recipe? We were the ones who once cooked it, and though we savored and relished it, it seems to be so poisoning, that its after effects are very much active even today.

What a beautiful mess we have created!

Even the little droplets of pristine water that are but a side effect of this dish in making, spoiling, trying...