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King Duncan: I love both my sons equally! Malcolm and *looks at smudged writing on hand* Donald Trump

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The child that the father doesn’t forgive

I am needed.

For another decade

In another life

Irreplaceable.

Yet, displaced every second

The second thought, think.

Unable to fit in too close or too far

Pushed yet pulled by same force

Pulled yet pushed by same force

“I am not tired yet.”

Static.

Relax.

“Don’t cook for me tonight.”

Playlist for each day.

I slept awake

Gratitude undone to the stars

Another week, the playlist.

“Do laundry” “Tomorrow”

Ugh.

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How you will take a revenge

This is how you will take a revenge from yourself. You will not take long baths. You will give yourself the advice that you know won’t work and get late to office because the shower thoughts will hook you in the kitchen. You will stand there. Not notice the pan on the stove but notice the most unnoticed leaf of the tree outside. And when your hand will accidentally touch the pan and your nerves will dance and your skin will have a thin red scar, the cloud of the blames and regrets will go. You will see the time. 14mins late already. The burn on your hand will not let you revive that 14 is an important number for you. An important date on the calendar. This is how you will take a revenge. You will add extra sugar as a pamper. You will not change the bulb for next 4 days. Will not get waxed. Will not clean the wardrobe and mess your mornings. Skip lunch with friends. You will thus, borrow yourself to spoil so that your blames are reasonable in the end.

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Never

Never knew the color of the blood of a lobster. Never gave an intimating smile to an old man. Old man with old coins. Never tried chirping because my mom defined to me how to talk human. Never knew how to solve dynamic equations because leaving Literature is a tough bet. Never knew why guys look down my neck when I walk down the platform. Never knew how to not write making you guess my sex. Never knew how to put coffee without spilling it. Never knew why toothpaste relieves burns. Never knew how to set a grave. Never knew what cats like eating. Do they like crumbs in milk or just milk in crumbs or nothing like crumbs? Never knew how nymphs look outside paintings. Never gave the correct email address offline. You can't pen the same thing that you type. You can't type the same thing you pen. Never wrote with a brown sketch pen on bookmarks. They don't catch eyes. Just like green sketch pens don't. Never knew the optics behind the disregard of few colors. Never knew what to look in a person to conclude their perfection. Never wrote a love letter. You must have old school people to send old school things. Never cried in front of a school teacher. Never optimized the possibility of an earthquake. My science says they do not even come back. Never fought the fate. You can't. What is won is fate again. Ugly. Never found human race boring. Never found hell. Never wanted to be a good person. I know where it is going. Never ate sushi. Never taught a child mathematics. Never recited what it felt. Never wrote a 'never-done' list before. Never was I ever able to find good reasons to write one. Until I started losing and faced 'Never Again'.

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I am salt added to honey. He is sugar added to water.

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Often you want to be noticed but once you are, really, what do you have to say

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Morning

My shoulders drawn up are attempting a good hairstyle out of the morning Medusa you left me with. I am looking in the mirror and not remembering you. I revive the list of makeup mud that I have to apply over the zit reaction of symphonies of these winter evenings spelled by peanuts. I realised how satisfactory a brand new shuttle of shampoo is and how boring toasts are in the morning. The sheets need a good wash. The coffee once brewed has its water chilled. I touch the cup and remember the cold of your hands with the exception of a warm breathe but there isn't a piece of you left. I have my coffee on the stove again. May the cold of your hands recover this morning.

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Colloquy

Simmer sepia of lambent sunshine

Forgive my cold flesh

For the ignorance towars the

Incessant gulf of life

Over the surface of solace.

 The vigour of my vexation

Witted thaw as the teardrops

Froze on my cheeks

I ask goddess life

“Ow do, one, that is visibly unseen?”

 Came a conjurer and laughed a haux

Notion of an eerie spooks my heart

Calms a nerve

Takes a sigh

“You trotted and never did I”

 Goddess life speaks a lie

“I gave you spring and stones

And rainboots

A scarlet star and yound dandelion

To not just gape, but to wish.”

 Naught to I know

Neither do I need

Spilled from the hole

Beneath

Breathe.

 The saccharine of this grave

Which emobdies my tongue

Waits for galas to come

And particularly for the guest

Who waits alike.

 “Do freeze yourself not, dear guest

The cosy mantle waits at home”

I suggest.

“Let cold be the last ligature

For a luxury sans you

Pinches my skin.”

 My dearest guest

Now begins

“Once too gaudy

My life indeed

Appears to bleach

As my colors state

From six feet beneath.”

 With the last voices

I could’ve thrust out

I provided some aid

“You sleep with the moon every night

What if he too

Refuses to cry

Moon has his own eclipse

Moon too

Leaves the sky.”

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This happens every night.

My head turns into a giant wheel.

Jumbling dreams.

One after the other.

And it scares me that the very next may fall and break.