That Night

I wanted to, I almost did but..
I couldn't.
Pulled back like a bowstring I couldnt let loose the arrow.
Taut with desire
I held myself back
You were too important a mark to miss.
There was a sickening inside
the arrow buried deep in the chest
Every night deeper
And in the morning the wound gaped and gashed
You always saw me bandaged if not too neatly
wound  draped in amateur dressing  sheathed in guarded shield a  casualty of some inner war
And you pitied the war  victim.
I did not want your pity.
But I craved for your mercy that would release the tension
free my heart string to its duty.
Then one day I grew up
And sutured my own wounds
Under anesthesia I had applied on myself.
It happened as it happens
Without warning.
The wound was no longer open to your hurting.
My own soul unaware of its stage of healing I sallied forth
To do my hearts bidding
And attended to
New conquests new callings
As if a benign tumor I avoided any chance of malignancy and cocooned you away.
One evening the war broke out on all fronts because I saw your face and name again
Not even 2 cents for guessing
The pale blue page on which you resurfaced.
That was the night I cried harder than my wounds had bled and released the pus at last in speaking dreams.
Pictures went fast accross
The comatose mind
The subconscious sifted every bit of happy gold from the suave sand of
Your ignorant bliss
My dreadful silent pleas
All were given hearing
And that was the night
All my nightmares ended
When I made peace with your ignorant bliss
And loved myself for loving
The wound cauterized healed  or faded
And your mercy
Came at last.

  

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  All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2014

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On Apr 13, 2014
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