Anvita

This never occurred to me.
But lately it feels as if this is devouring me
Piece by piece.

I knew this would happen one day.
Just didn't know it would be this day.

The things I hold so dear are now slipping away
I just want to go away.
Anywhere and everywhere

I fear the wrinkles on my skin are now showing on the inside.
Does anyone else feel like this on the inside?

The questions that would never be answered by someone older,
Are now ringing in my head
Maybe, I am getting older.

Im standing between regret and forget,
Or maybe this is to forget.

I'm seeing an endless ocean with nothing but fading memories crashing into one another.
I feel tired and hopeless and lost, like another.
I'm losing it, one by one

I'm scared if I find land, this may end.
My memories may end.

To my foes and friends a smile hides it all.
The constant battles between who i am and who i was
Though in my heart I feel nothing at all.

If this was the wish of getting older then,
I feel I made a mistake back then.

Now it has occurred, I'm left to question my queries.
I wonder will I even remember this?
Will I remember what I hold so dear now, in 20-30 years?

I guess that I am older, and it seems to be colder than what i remember.

-Anvita Dharma

The fabrics of time are like a silky material.
Once it's gone, it's gone.
It slips through my hands and falls so effortlessly on the floor.
It plops down
Restless.
I try and try and ache and ache to pick it up.
Just to feel its soft warmth on my skin again but too late.
It has fallen, it is still falling.
I tilt my head back and see it is falling deeper and deeper.
It is getting later and later.
When will it ever stop escaping my grasp?
When does time ever stop falling?
It slips from grasp just out of my reach.
Just a bit too late.
When will it ever harden?
When will time freeze and when will it be in my grasp again?
I can feel the heat rising.
The tension is boiling.
The silk is almost at my finger tips.
Once again I feel its warmth enlighten my hand.
It sits in my palm ever so elegantly,
Just waiting to fall.
Waiting to be lost.

Anvita Dharma

I was just walking home.
The cold weather grips me tight.
The tug of my scarf provides warmth but isolates the cold.
Amber leaves fall.
They dance their way to the bottom, never expecting to go back up.
Why would they?
Being in the stars, being up high where everyone wants a bite—
You're slowly falling.
You're losing your leaves with every bite they take,
With every moment they steal,
And with every move they make,
Until you're left naked with nothing.
Robbed of yourself.
Stolen of your warmth.
I used to be up there.
All the diamonds and the dirt—
Dirt that can never be dug up.
My leaves fell.
I thought they would come back.
I was wrong.
My vibrance had died.
I was naked, and you knew the whole time.
Yet I still tugged, and you still played.
Were you forced to be up there?
Or did you crave something in return?
Did I put you up there?
Or were you just a leaf holding on the whole time,
Not knowing when you’d fall?
Autumn's colours take me back—
Back to you, but from a distance.
I sit and see the leaves fall.
Though I am naked, I am complete.
I wonder—are you?
Are you complete now?
After a year of warmth and love, are you still falling?
I won't tug anymore.
I’ll leave you be.
But sometimes, when the music dies and the trees are cold,
I’ll wonder if our love could ever grow old.
You’re nothing more than a memory to me.
Fragments of broken texts, hugs, and dirt—
Dirt that I’ll leave buried
To keep you as a distant memory.
A distant memory,
Falling to the ground.