Quiet when it comes down to my heart,
I cry to the rhythm of my own heartbeats;
Each thud sounds like your name.
I strum the guitar with my calloused fingers,
And every note comes shallow and broken;
Yet, everyone dances to the imperfect song —
The song of my love,
I hereby sing to you, my passion.
Not a single soul knows what the song holds;
Their bodies sway to the off-key melody,
Their hands make abstract motions,
And their eyes are clenched shut.
I almost doubt my tune, as I watch them mindlessly dancing,
For this song does not exude joy —
It is a lampshade that illuminates my darkest nights,
When I sit under the shadow of you,
Who slips from my grasp;
The more I endeavour to hold you to myself,
The more you escape my first.
It feels like you are the sand I find on beaches,
And I am a mere traveller,
Attempting to take you home.
When will I realise that our homes are disparate?
Alas! I strum the guitar harder,
As tears of mental and emotional anguish
Slip down my face.
These dummy-like people keep on dancing,
Noticing not a single change in the chord,
And I presume they are partially dead.
I flip onto the next page of the lyrics:
My heart is a museum of your admiration,
And the gates are open for your arrival;
My eyes are tired of staying wide open,
Awaiting your advent.
When will you come to visit me?
When will you come to embrace me?
When will you come to take me with you?
When will you come?
My hands are insensate by now,
But they do not stop playing
In hopes that you would hear the melody from a world away,
And follow the tune in a daze,
And I would finally see you
After an eternity of wishing to find you.
Aren't the dummies tired, too?
I see their faces, and I see tears.
Tears.
Of agony, of longing, of desperation.
Perhaps they are as desolate as I am;
Perhaps they resonate with this broken rhythm;
Perhaps they know what love feels like,
And they hate it, too.
- Udeesha
(I'm getting dangerously close to insanity now)
YOU ARE READING
BANG CHAN » poetry
Fanfiction"To you I give the moons of every night." - Sara Shagufta Simply a compilation of poetry I wrote solely for my greatest muse, Bang Christopher Chan. "I wish you were still a human to me, I don't want to look at you and see poetry."
