I wake up to the reality of my dreams
To find you woven in every moment, it seems.
Life goes on... simple, sedate;
I seem content enough with my fate.
...
I stared at you long enough to let our eyes meet
and wondered at your heels on that icy street.
Wondered at services you had already rendered,
either for gain or gratuitously tendered.
...
Journey into depth of soul,
slippery slope or mere hell-hole;
taken despite wary warning
finds may cause massive mourning.
...
No rhyme, no rhythm, no reason;
No song for a special season;
No cause against which to rage;
Just wandering words down the page.
...
Everything said and done,
the veracity of things left
unsaid and undone
seem to reverberate,
...
I ran my car into God today;
I thought I had the right of way.
He says He’s suing after all;
Can you believe the Almighty gall.
...
Like Jonah, I run
Because I'm so...
Afraid to see myself through Your eyes,
Afraid to hear myself through Your ears,
...
Kindly do me a favor
while you're still ahead...
Spare me cliches of undying love
even after I'm dead.
...
Over a shallow grave of blood and flesh
a mere fistful of tears are flung.
Brief life with questionable purpose;
unseen, unheard, unsung.
...
Caught in between contradictions
that make up my obscure life;
ever-hunting for the The Truth
while wielding a liar's knife.
...
Sweet surrender of finding
One's tired soul unwinding
Until life no longer matters;
Love unchains all its fetters.
...
Glimpses of you keep chasing
the corners of my eyes.
That I'm trying to evade you;
one could easily surmise.
...
Said Pen to Pad:
I'm waiting here expectantly
Hoping quite ardently
...
Crashing into icy waves,
as I swim through your veins.
Each frigid beat reminds me,
...
a quark's quest to quell
quasi quixotic qualms
in a quantum quandry
quietly quickens
...
Eternal rest grant unto us, O Lord,
whose hearts although beating
could easily be mistaken as dead;
ever-yearning for a sense of stillness,
...
Where do we begin
to inhume our inhumanity;
Given that our tastes
are now used to its acerbity.
...
A word under whose weight, we rise or crumble.
A path along which star-crossed lovers stumble.
In whose name, battles are lost and won.
...
Just in case you weren't told
I'll have you know
This is getting old.
Sloppy kisses, an icky finger,
...
Roshni D'Souza lived in India until the age of 16 and is a citizen of Canada, but currently finds herself living and working as a physical therapist in Ohio. She never really feels at home anywhere, but is able to functionally adapt everywhere. She's also trying to convince herself that home is where the heart is; however, that is a task much easier said than done due to the fact that on most days, she's not sure where her heart is. Roshni has no particular aspirations in writing. She does so mainly to amuse herself and because she has always been in love with words for as long as she can remember. She only writes sporadically as most of her inspiration comes at night and she's too lazy to turn on the light and pursue it or when she's driving and usually does not have time to pull over. Most of her time is fondly spent with her husband, her son, and practising physical therapy in the field of industrial rehabilitation.)
Blurred Lines
I wake up to the reality of my dreams
To find you woven in every moment, it seems.
Life goes on... simple, sedate;
I seem content enough with my fate.
I wake up to the reality of my reality
To find your presence, now mere anonymity.
Life carries on... simple, sedate;
I've come to terms with my fate.
Then there are days when the lines seem to blur.
Are you my dream or my reality, I cannot know for sure.
Life inches along... simple, sedate;
I wonder if I wandered into someone else's fate.
PS. Written for anyone who can identify with having to live with the loss of a loved one.