"....have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Why?



Why does it hurt so much when the words come from you?
Why does it matter so much?
When words spoken were far but few
For simply for you it never mattered as such

Almost two years and still counting
Only I know what I’ve given up
Been long gone now but my heart continues thumping
After every sore tear filled hiccup
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Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Death of a heartbeat


T’was mid summer’s noon
I lay thoughtless
Mind wandering into the depths
Of an empty lagoon
There I lay thinking
How deep have I sank?
Why does it hurt so deep even now?
Tears tear you to pieces somehow 
Or is this the price of being so frank?
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