passing through

this morning
for a brief moment, i could've sworn
it was the sound of your laughter i heard.
it's funny how we always assume that we will meet again.
and then years pass by.
next thing i hear, you are gone.
we will never see each other again.
not in this lifetime, at least.
part of me is glad that my only memories of you,
are all of you happy and healthy.
they say we are all passing through this lifetime,
only difference is when.
sad as it may be, but with every death
i am reminded to live more, bigger and better
as i don't know when my pass in this phase of my life will expire.
am constantly wondering whether there will come a time when my heart will get used to the thought of loss, of death... whether this jolt of the heartstrings will fade...
we will forget and continue living, till the next time...

together again

came across this poem in a book i was reading recently...

together again
here in this place,
of angled streets and northern light,
under this particular moon,
with all quiet and sleeping behind and around us;
of what may I speak but friendship,
and our human wish for love - not just for me
but for friends too,
and those who are not my friends;
so if you ask me, now, at this moment
what is my wish: it is for love all over,
like tears of rain - that is enough - Angus Lordie

this in turn got me inspired and immediately after i read this poem (still a work in progress), this is what was happening in my mind:

pause
while thoughts of days gone by linger
in my head, like the after taste of a favourite meal.
i let my mind take the wonder of it all.
pause
something catches my attention.
fleeting past the corner of my eye.
pause
flip back to thoughts of painful joy,
freedom has come at a price.
i had to let it go to get here.
pause
while thoughts of love, of longing
consume me and manifest into this.
this state of wondering.

lies = fiction

the story of you's been walking around the world with me for so long, that i'm now afraid to let it go on paper.
you've been growing in my head all this time that i can hardly separate truth from lie from fiction.

i'm not me. i'm not you.

what about all the lies? were they part of the narrative of you? a way of escaping the unbearable reality called my life

multiple personalities... there must be, how else do you explain the intricate lives your character is juggling?
paranoia.. afraid that someone will figure it all out. the fiction.
anxiety... well...
fear... hardly surprising considering the fictional living
all make for an interesting state of mind...

do the lies we tell, the small untruths add up to the fiction of you?
if they do, then we are all born storytellers...