Questions
I speak,
and so do you,
with words that scratch at the bottom of my heart,
do you speak in the same way,
that you once spoke,
or is your voice now laboured,
in the same way,
mine is.
I spent the night,
picking up curdled memories,
of you and I,
when the fruit was ripe,
it gave of a faint,
scent of something,
I now only remember,
as what remains at the edges of my dreams,
does it cling to you,
in the same way it clings to me.
Your voice i have tried to preserve,
in a cage of memories,
but these have grown frail,
decomposed,
and it escaped.
I barely speak now,
i wonder if you remember mine.
Letters you wrote,
decay in the boxes,
i keep my loneliness,
they steep,
in the waters of my regrets,
and fade.
I wrote you letters,
i hope you think of them,
i hope you remember my flowing cursive,
like i remember yours.
I sit in my chair,
as i hope you do on yours,
and sit in a house,
that has always seemed empty,
like i hope yours is,
and watch as my mind crumbles,
into all but the sorrow,
i have carried for years.
Is your heart still rotting,
like mine is.
p.s I had someone ask me about this one. Yes, it is meant to be creepy and uncomfortable lol, it is about someone so lost in the past, so in need of some human connection that they are willing to wish pain upon someone they seemingly once loved to feel some connection with someone.
It was inspired by the song 'husna' by Piyush Mishra as i found it so unconfortable to listen to.