I lose my words in minutes, hours, days

poetry in every day

Photo by Dr.Sourabh Panari on Unsplash

I lose my words in minutes, hours, days

they split from my synapses
hide in places I cannot perceive—
a stone stuck on a brick wall, painted flush;
in spices wafting from the kitchen;

I rummage for them in recesses
piled with years-old news, stale grudges,
prickly memories;
in faint fragrance of faded mehendi;
in dirt clinging to grooves of my ring;
under uneven fingernails;
in ink stains on bedsheet;

when I search, I lose more,
agitating glazed glances, binding
aggression of frustration to eyes else emotionless;

where I stand still,
a raindrop slips from its queue,
kisses hunched shoulder;
a slash of wind needles fortified flesh;

as senses, sensibilities dissolve,
blood beads from a papercut,
bruises, scabs, scars;
skin darkens, tickled by fire,
bubbles, pours, scars;
tongue splits, caught between teeth,
bleeds, salivates, heals;

I find my words when I am lost,
notarized in never,
engraved in eternity;

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Thank you for reading till the end. Let me know your thoughts in the comments. See you next week~