I had spilled
My heart out to them
And expressed
My desperate wish
To join their ranks.

They decided
Without my knowledge
To help me
And am not sure how
Aware they were

Of the fact
I had Intoxicated them
With over-thought
Timing and manipulative
Words and also some tears.

Maybe in
Their subconscious they
Knew, because
They wittily called
The operation W.I.N.E.

(But I am
Grateful for their help
At least in
Retrospect, I know
I did not fight alone.

I was not
Fighting against them
I was fighting
Against myself and
Together we won. )

Lately,
I seem to be having
More dream than sleep.

I find myself
Waking up in pure exhaustion
From an over active subconscious.

Adrenalin
Doing it's best to fill
The void that is you.

Lately,
I tend to lose
My hands and feet.

I leave them
In some corner and
Forget that I ever had

The ability
To walk freely
Wherever and whenever I wish.

Lately,
I seem to want
To constantly run

Away.

And without me even knowing
My legs started to run
It's not that they were eager
To reach home but else knew
That if they walk
They will turn back to
Where they have just left.

I have begun to notice the vast, blank
Stretches of wall in my house. They
Have a certain beauty to them, but
In the absence of anything to avert
My attention, I can see only your
Faces, as if painted in memories, on
Those white canvases of nothingness
And the pain of your sudden appearance
Followed tightly by the slow fade of your
Images, is unbearable, but still my eyes
Seek out the blanks on the walls, the
Voids through which you can come
Just that much closer, to my being.

I knew the pathway
Like the back of my hand
It was etched there
Involuntarily, as if
Drawn onto my flesh
In my own blood
(I must not tell lies)
This place is somewhere
Only we know
The true face of, having
Been here long enough
Separately, to come
To terms with
Loathing it and having
Been here long enough
Together, to have pleasant
Memories, which are the only things
I can see before my eyes
As I walk through the pathways
That less than a year ago
Were a part of my life.
But I'm not here,
Not anymore.
Although I spent
Five years here, I can only remember
Our five hours.

He knew he was going to
Document it in words and
I knew he was going to
Do that as well and he knew
That I'll know that he knew
By now, so he hurried his feet
Towards home.

The words in front of me
Seem familiar
I cannot place my finger
On why, though.

I read your words
And then realized that I
Am now part
Of a poem.

In the pond behind
The Rabbi's house
A thin sheet of ice
Would gather every winter.

We would never step
On it, because we all
Knew that it will break -
I wish I looked so fragile

Right now so that people
Will know to be careful
Around me so I won't
Crack, yet again.

Next night
I slept in sheets
That smelt of you.

I had so much to do
But I felt so alone
And in those moments
I wanted you to stay.

Human, you make me
Happy, you make me
Less mad, you keep me
Sane with your non touching
Hand, you do your best
You do your best, you do
What you can despite being
Just human.

Human, please let me
Help, please let me
In, I am aware my burden
Is not one you are eager
To increase, but I will do
My best, because you too
Are only human.

Human, talk with me
Into the night, and show me
Nothing, but through your
Writing hand, where you let me
Envision you hands grabbing your
Hair, I can feel
Your pain, I can feel
It now, cause I too
Am only human.

Human, we are both flawed
Beyond.

I've been hanging on
This whole time so
Don't just leave cause
You think it's best.

Of course I
Trust you, you
Never gave me a reason
Not to, you were
Always there, it is
Not trivial, not for
Me, I am more grateful
Than my words
Can portray, I thank
You for telling me
I am amazing, I
Needed that, I need
It every time and
Hate myself for needing
It, I wanted to tell
You that I am not
Brave but the words
Wouldn't come out
Between the sobs, I
Just want you to know
I heard everything and
I cannot thank you
Enough.

I never believed in Murphy
But then I told you
That I was getting better.

I am able to be poetic
About my pain, it is
Not beyond my ability
And is even easier
Sometimes, than being
Poetic about other things.

But I seem incapable of
Being poetic when
It comes to this feeling
Of missing you.

I try to let my thoughts out
In the form of art but
All that comes into my mind
Is I miss you I miss you
I miss you so much and
That's really not much to go on.

No elaborate metaphors
No elegant words
I just miss you I miss you
I miss you so much and
My brain can't focus
On anything else.