i am not
science
or
maths
or english.
not
of medicine
or engineering
or managenent

neither academic
nor vocational

i do not
belong
to white
or blue
or yellow
not
even
black

not
brains
not
brawns

i do not speak
of any jargon
not
professional
not
unpronessional

my place
is placeless.
my trace
is traceless.

colorless
formless.

only
a
breath breathing
human being

inhaling
the same air
of socrates
or lao tzu
or alcibiades

exhaling
the air
for more
thinkers
and
tinkerers

i am my past
and my future is i
no matter
who i was
or who i choose to be.

i will be

“I dont know”
was my response
when you asked me if
I still love you

the world stopped
for the both of us
as I wondered on the thought
of me, being selfish
or being true
and yours upon the
realization that
maybe, just maybe
my love for you
is fleeting

neither of us was speaking
and the silence echoed
through the depths of my head
and you uttered
‘oh’

that moment, I knew
that you gave up
on me, and my inner
indecisiveness

I crumbled upon
the guilt of telling you
those words, so instead
I let my tongue do
the talking and said
'maybe'

cause it was never hard to say

but it is always hard to face

the reality of being responsible
to someone

as if I have to breathe
through somebody’s pair of lungs
and scratch the loneliness
with someone else’s fingers

we parted
I changed numbers

cause I had to stay afloat
on the clouds of solitude
free from attachments.