Muse
I look for you in the white of paper. I look for you in the lonely winter. I know you are hidden there playing with me as time goes by. Why do I lose you and why do I need a reason to find you? I think and fail. I just hate it when you mock at me standing there in the corner. I feel disgruntled when I try to walk alone and stumble with the shadows. I get angry when I scratch myself and don’t feel the pain. I try to fit into it and always find myself an inch shorter. I write a poem but fail to give it a rhyme. I look at the wall and something bounces back at me hard enough to shatter everything I gathered during my stay. I pick up the stone and fall short of creating a ripple. Why do I want to create and why do I end up doing nothing? I think and fail. I stare at it trying hard not to blink. I fill up the glass and wish I don’t feel thirsty. It comes and goes inside. I see it entirely piercing and penetrating. I just stand there watching the entire bloodshed. The vultures tear apart and muddle the sky. I shout and get entangled in the babel. I lock myself to undress. But there is something that always keeps me clothed outside. I do grab and rip it apart. Howsoever, I try to go clean but it always gets inside the nail and grows there like a bug. It duplicates and makes zillions of copies. I see it ejaculate and reproduce. Why do I let it become a zygote and why do I fail to abort it? I feel confused. It’s all muddled up. I can’t figure it out on my own. Yes, you are there and you do have a name. But I don’t know what should I call you? I accept my defeat and confess that I am incomplete without you.
I need you. I do need you.
I look for you in the white of paper. I look for you in the lonely winter. I know you are hidden there playing with me as time goes by. Why do I lose you and why do I need a reason to find you? I think and fail. I just hate it when you mock at me standing there in the corner. I feel disgruntled when I try to walk alone and stumble with the shadows. I get angry when I scratch myself and don’t feel the pain. I try to fit into it and always find myself an inch shorter. I write a poem but fail to give it a rhyme. I look at the wall and something bounces back at me hard enough to shatter everything I gathered during my stay. I pick up the stone and fall short of creating a ripple. Why do I want to create and why do I end up doing nothing? I think and fail. I stare at it trying hard not to blink. I fill up the glass and wish I don’t feel thirsty. It comes and goes inside. I see it entirely piercing and penetrating. I just stand there watching the entire bloodshed. The vultures tear apart and muddle the sky. I shout and get entangled in the babel. I lock myself to undress. But there is something that always keeps me clothed outside. I do grab and rip it apart. Howsoever, I try to go clean but it always gets inside the nail and grows there like a bug. It duplicates and makes zillions of copies. I see it ejaculate and reproduce. Why do I let it become a zygote and why do I fail to abort it? I feel confused. It’s all muddled up. I can’t figure it out on my own. Yes, you are there and you do have a name. But I don’t know what should I call you? I accept my defeat and confess that I am incomplete without you.
I need you. I do need you.
