These are but vain attempts to express, by one who wears her heart on her sleeve. Words, much like love, can be ever elusive... ever frustrating... like trying to paint a million stories on a single canvass. If you will read, please do not ask. Just feel. Or at least try to. The meaning is, whatever you have felt to be there, or the lack thereof :)


Nothing but a disembodied voice
    a muffled cry for help
    and a crumbling spirit.
No one but a ghost of a friend
    a gust of wind for a listener
    and deafening silence for an answer.

So I bow down
Not because I am weak but because no one hears.
Not so much because of defeat but of hopelessness.
Not because I want to,
but because I don’t see any other choice.

And all I ever wanted was
    to find my rightful place
    to be heard.
So I retreat
    to where no hurt could touch me
    where no pain could again suffocate
    where everything maters no longer.

Now I float
    past the edge
    past the mocking and searing pain
    past the weariness
To the cold and serene world of the dead.

18th March 2001
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