Her tongue was speaking some foreign language and I took off my eyeballs to reach the core of her silence, to understand what she meant. Her ribs breaking, joining, abdicating the pain. The overlapped bones cries at utmost grief. I sounded like some distant land city, away from the staring eyebrows. I shuddered my plight in my eyelids and the city children went numb. I stood, to walk barefoot on the grass beneath my feet but it ached my heels, leaving the unsaid at every step. I walked and walked until I crossed the river of hope, to see her standing there. She lay all morbid like the desert. I poured the water from my wet hands till they got dried. Suddenly, I separated myself from her, to let others sit round her and share her moment of despair. She again spoke something, far away from this place. I ran to hear her, and we shared the story of our famished land, ear to ear. But this time I understood her words, her appetite dying. Alas! a slow death like a dear love. And she no more wants to eat pills for her pain to reduce anymore. I tried to touch her, but she screamed her pain through her mouth and I wanted to disappear from that moment, that is growing futile on me. The pain which is becoming unbearable for me to hold on and I can't let her go. I was unable to move on, I stuck there with her, my plight becoming some foreign language now. I saw the numb children, coming one after another, saw her in silence and left. All the tongues got bitter, and throat all choked. I saw tears of leaving. I saw the morbid tales in their eyes, which they wanted to share. I saw the numb ears, varying with the colours, I found on their faces. I saw their bowed eyes, sacrificing the left stories yet to be told. I saw the deviating time, betwixt the fingers averting the hands of clock to not let them turn away. I saw the shuddering pain on their shoulders. I saw the limp hopeless feet, unable to walk. I saw me, standing there and unable to move but something, pulled me from back and walked backwards to my home, seeing at every step, the left words. #yqbaba #homelesspoet #home #aislesofpoetry
