All my life
I've looked at words
as though that winter sun
shrieks more than the intent
to wake up and regain,
the windows bolted out
open to brick and lay the
outdoor street
bustling with the rhymes,
all the words bubbling
for dispensation,

I've looked at words
transitioning like the traffic lights,
red, pink, yellow, orange,
blue, green and grey,
words with their own
cheeky coloured connotations,

with the willingness to impart
the nature's faculty and yours,
with the simmering withdrawal
to run away from rush hour
leaving almost all behind,
but for you and I,
we're all stuck
like words in this jam, right?

then let us celebrate errors as well,
how would you like an errata for the misspelt?
how would you like to call in sick today?

Life hasn't always been words,
you unlearn emotions,
drawl out impulses like a synthesizer,
your syntactic syntax working
up veins and vowels and consonants on
some memory sojourn,

All this time I had been chasing
dictionaries to swell her up
from under the streetlights
to her inside an apartment complex,

floating above swimming pools
and drinking in drained out tanks
up above below some terrace,
somedays I'm waiting for
her charming self at a bar,
now she comes once
by the weekend,

words were always
inside us like toxins and peptides,
all my life breathing words,
words were never more

All my life,
I've looked at words,
my flow of consciousness
used to the waves of the seen,
the felt and the sounds touch
my feet upon the transient sand,
words fleeting after years,
words fleeting in search of moments,
when a girl seeks words
from her suitor, and he promised
he'd bleed and pour letters of love,
words lost when the letters never reach,
as the suitor seeks for her in the grainy storm

now I never look at words as before,
I am content with words being objects.





©epigramfortwo