A Conversation

between you and I,

and we and us.

I wonder what you may be doing,

taking a nap perhaps?

Or petting some stray cat on the streets:

either way I hope you were thinking about me.

Have you been skipping meals lately, like I do when

time slips away while counting my faults until

I finally bump into you somewhere.

Then I switch to pointing fingers at all the wrongs you have done,

till I run out of fingers and breath and return to blaming myself:

I find it easier to list out the things I did in spite — or maybe I just see you in myself.

Have you been happy lately?

It’s a selfish thought for me to entertain.

I wish you aren’t while I’m holding on to these thoughts;

then at least you would reply to me.

-a.h.

_____________________________________________

It’s hard. I swear. To look at someone else the same way you always do and realise their head was turned towards another all along.

” Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering wrongs. ” – Jane Eyre, Jane Austen

 

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