Posted on March 26, 2013 by Sweta Gyanu Baniya
From the dreams
We dreamed together
Your sudden entrance
Into my dreams?
Without thinking a single time
Was never a choice…
Was there an exit too?
This is Today
Chose to cease your existence
Your own choice though
Treading over my silence
Indifferent to the pangs of pain
Your chosen disappearance
Has transgressed yourself
Under the self-exile of your
Your own hibernation
Filed under: Poetry | Tagged: dreams, hibernation, love, separation, silence, you, you-me-her | Leave a comment »
Posted on March 21, 2013 by Sweta Gyanu Baniya
I want to talk with myself, probably I want to undergo a certain kind of meditation and ask many questions to me- myself. No, I am not addressing this letter to you today because I am tired of anxiously waiting for your reply. Am I hallucinating your presence? Because you never exist, or do you? I am tired of being anxious, trembling feet, thumping heart and heavy brain. I have to search for answers within myself because I am asking questions to myself in the form of Inboxes. How would have life been, if I had had courage that time? Life would have been different nah! Why aren’t you having courage to reply these letters? It is because you don’t exist. I think I am hallucinating your presence, imagining somewhere you exist and you are reading these in this blog. This is mere imagination. You don’t exist- this is the cruel reality.
Ignorance kills me out. It hurts when you know you were being ignored deliberately. And what when you were knowingly ignored for years? The existence, presence everything deliberately ignored. The feelings that you preserved for years was never felt, was never thought about but just merely ignored. But would you like the repetition of all these things? What about your promised moral support? Moral supports are all bluffs. They don’t exist. How long can I tolerate? How long can I tolerate my own false expectations? How much false hope you give in the form of your sweet words? See– I am hallucinating yet again. I am addressing you.
I don’t deserve suffering of any such or any kind. This is what I feel. This is what I believe. I have to have to stop hallucinating you, your loving me, your caring me, your understanding of my feelings, your giving me immense dreams of life, your giving me of hopes of happiness and your killing of my sorrows. At the end you yourself are a big bluff because you don’t exist, you don’t exist and all those things I expect are my own mere hallucination.
I don’t deserve suffering… like Sylvia Plath said once – “I deserve that, don’t I, some sort of blazing love that I can live with.”
Filed under: Inbox (1) Sweta's mail box, Sweta's Monologue | 4 Comments »