Muse

You search here,
I will look there.
Holler if you find something.
Anything.
Just traces would do too.
Or so these mindless mind conversations go on.

The aftermath of a crime scene
Disheveled, almost ransacked it looks.
This brain space sees old places, travels time
And walks hand in hand with someone
Who now isn’t even mine.

The sun rises and eventually, the days draw to a close.
How much I long for an inspiration
the crossed out crumpled sheets in the trash know.
I’ve exhausted playlists and instrumentals alike,
None has helped me so much to even create a tiny prose.

Years it has been
Since I looked you up & close,
When your chin rested on my head
And you drew me in your warm core.
And still today, you stop mid sentence
and your voice breaks at my ‘Hi’.
For the world, you have conveniently forgotten me,
But the person inside you refuses to even whisper a goodbye.

Life will change some more
Days will still start and end the same,
Cities may be different, time zones may be a challenge;
Ignorance, silences, our inflated egos we will manage.
Only to come back and confess the longings,
Only to stand at the very place our hands last met and drifted.

To so many questions and confusion in my life,
The sound of your name is nectar to my pain.
Why even in the most happening places, I am a recluse.
Why no hope is lost when the world is upside down, obtuse.
Someday you will be someone else’s man,
but forever stay in this parallel of my imagination
as my muse.

© 2017 Neha Choudhry

'Fuimos los mejores, fuimos los peores' by Sara Herranz