Monday, October 30, 2006

She died not


Heart beats.

And hurts,

But Its now a habit,

All those memories,

Kill them, I say

Obliterate them

So cruelly my brain separates us

And yet bits of you persist within

And you speak out from inside me

My heart and its beats

And you speak from

My teary eyelids

My mangled wrists,

My blue blue skin,

And still you speak

From within.

It’s strange that Am alive

Even without you.

It hurts all over and

Its difficult breathing

And I cry out for a drag of breath

And I die again,

But living is such a habit

You seem to be with me

In the darkest dawns

And I can’t seem forget you.

Oh but I will

For living is such a habit

And you are with me in

Brightest nights,

And I smell you in me

And you are dead,

I wish I were too

But life is such a habit,

And I live.


2 comments:

Solan said...

the picture makes it all the more pretty. thats why people love haiku I guess.

L>T said...

yeah, life is a habit.