Funerals

I have attended
all my funerals -
buried my selves
with no pomp or show
except fitting tears
and beautiful elegies.
After each heartbreak
there would be a me -
an us, a memory -
to bury
and move on.
After each funeral
I have risen,
Restored,
Only to walk up to my
next funeral.
Every burial
has been more sombre
than the previous,
Every new elegy
more beautiful.
There's one last funeral
I need to attend
before saying 'hi' to you -
The burial of
my last sane self.

March 26, 2013

The Stench

I am saving my teardrops,
gathering them
one by one -
Now I have
a pool of them
somewhere inside me
where once there was
a heart
devoted to your moments.
Moments of love,
of laughter,
of tender fights,
of clamoured arguments -
Moments that have turned into memories
that the heart
cannot hold
any longer.
I have drowned them all
in my saved pool
of tears.
Now all there is
are rotten carcasses
of what once smelled of you.

March 24, 2013

Poetry

Poetry
Does not
Come out of
Well-layered thoughts
Or well-meaning ideas,
But through pain and restraint,
Insanity and poise,
With a little bit of happiness;
Poetry comes
When the world comes to you
In a flash of reality,
Well-imagined.