Soumya Scribbles...

Wish I could be a cloud one day I will love to be grey if its you To whom, through whom I traverse. Transparency is optimum; For I know you are unattainable like the sand escaping from the fist like the meaning assumed from the gist. look, oh yes, I can rhyme too. If you wish I can artify our world. Inspiration never needs a permit. You had asked, Why do I vomit blood. Interruptions in dreamy un-realism doesn't suit me. I know. So I write. So that I can breathe you in and breathe dreams out. Live long, you had wished. (Wished), did you? honestly? I will let it pass like just another Failed attempt to face reality Finds itself en-route to contamination. Oh! then what is pure? you may ask. Purity is not you, not me, but us. Purity is the way verses traverse. I will vomit to death one day. Do not pray for me. Pray for my poems who are quiet. Let them borrow my breaths. Let the poetry for us live. (And the footnotes conclude:) You - a miser in love Me - a happy lender. SoUmy@

I have peeled my skin With each of your blank verses. My poetry has gone through erosions, lost pages of memoirs, Un-remembrance and what else? Irreversibility never liked me. Nor did I. Blood has dripped, once, twice, May be more? I never had a scale to fathom what I lost. Nor did veins apologized, ever. Veins, oh they know when to let go of you As color red. You had a quotient of quality. I have put myself on either side of balancing machine, Have weighed myself with my emotions Perhaps the odd moments against my soul. Unperturbed you were, you are. A perfect imbalance I am. Just like this verse which pleads to be understood. I leave you with one question except me: Will you ever kill your shadow to be alone? Oh nights have the answer still. I will wait. I know you won't know for Dark never wronged black. SoUmY@