The curve of her jaw
Does not fit into
The palm of my hand
Like yours did.

i find you
in the quiet
corners of my days
and remind myself
to again try oh so hard
    to lose you among the busy
    and all of the work
once more

Ischemia – the imbalance between the supply and demand of the heart for oxygenated blood. I thought it was as simple as that, but then you came and made me realize there’s a much deleterious underlying condition to it.

The risk factors for this insufficiency took various forms. Calls were left unreturned. Conversations felt dry and passive. Some plans got cancelled over minor reasons, and then arguments became too dragging to argue over. These contributed to the gradual progression and development of an irreversible process – the decreased perfusion of feelings towards one another. In more than 90% of cases, the disorder had only become clinically evident in chronic conditions, once a tally of misunderstandings outweighed the hope of having any of it substantially resolved.

The pathogenesis was an unending blame game. Initially, there was a sudden severe narrowing or closure of the large vessels. It happened to you, to us, when a plaque existed, and our relationship went atherosclerotic. You grew narrow-minded; I became hard-headed. The excessive build up of plaque caused clogging, and it blocked your thoughts into meeting mine. That’s why we argued. A lot. And it made the diagnosis incurable.   You said I had an increased demand for your time and effort, that I asked more of which you could possibly give. I, on the other hand, have claimed that it rooted from your diminished passion-carrying component. Roses, chocolates, and balloons became a compensatory mechanism for the lapses you’ve done. Until I have accustomed myself in looking at these supposedly “romantic things” as variables of pain, conflict and broken promises. I never wanted that. But I grew bitter. And you are largely responsible for my stenotic ideations of true love. The kind which loves you back when every word sends a positive chronotropic and inotropic effect? Nah, it does not exist. For now.

I felt angina, especially when a large area got affected – when I uprooted myself from deep into your life. And it was awful. Excruciating. But really, I had been cautious. My heart was enclosed by a double-layered protective sac called sanity and self-respect. I guarded myself from believing every lie, and pretended that those sweet words did not reverberate at the back of my head. But you were an exception. You penetrated the wall. And from the inside chambers, you deprived me from the love I deserved.

Your insufficiency in making me feel loved had validated the statistical claim of heart diseases as the predominant cause of mortality on Earth. You have deprived me with what I deserved, until every fiber of this muscular ***** found enclosed my rib cage had been used to the lack of care, the lack of contact, and the indifference.

Yes, you have killed me gradually, by not loving me enough. And you have left me with a necrosed, dysfunctional heart.

most sunny afternoons
i could swear i hear you
from behind me with a
hey, dewdrop or a
how you doin’ today, mim
and i think when i turn i’ll
see you walking up, tall
and gangly with a hat on
and your big smile. but it’s
always
just a breeze through my hair,
always
just the warmth of a spring
day on my face.
mom says it’ll get easier, says
we should all keep believing
that it’s you in those moments,
reaching out from some far off
intangible place in the only ways
you can.
he just wants to see you smile,
baby girl.
so i’m trying to reach back in
the ways i think you would if
this had been the other way
around and i hope you see me,
hope you can feel my love
floating up to wherever you
are. i hope you’re proud of me.

Fell in love last friday
with a non-binary star
woke up and brushed my teeth
with sunglasses on thinking
of them

white shots of hail and the windows
jeweled from the rain
a hot week and hot nights
followed by a hot star
and sheets of rains from grey clouds
changing

I remembered today,
Waiting for the endless
Drone of cars
To slug down the
Crowded streets,

The brushing grace
Of your cheek
Against the inside of my palm
As I held your face close to mine,

The flowers you
Stuck in your auburn hair
Radiating bright and loud
Against the huff of blue
Summer sky,

The flash of your smile,
Brilliantly seeping
Out of the corner of your lips
As your eyes darted
To meet mine for only a moment
Suspended forever in time,

The way you whispered,
Something so gentle
I never imagined so heavy
When you lingered
"I love you"s against my lips
And pushed yourself closer,

And I remember,
I remember the way my fingers
Would tangle in the strands
Of your hair like fire,
Keeping me warm once,
Now only burning
In my memories,

And your hair was
So full of color,
But something drained it away,
Matted it and made it dull
And twisted me up in the process

Because here I sit alone,
Screaming in traffic.

there is fire in a woman
in the words she utters, spilling like a river from lips that know pain and hurting and still curl into a smile that reaches further than her cheeks
there is fire in a woman
in her art
and ‘art washes away from the soul the dust of life’
and often i wonder what it would feel like
to make her body my canvas
let my lips write words on her skin that they could never speak
into the small spaces that lie in-between what i envision our twisted limbs would look like
there is fire in a woman
in her touch, at least i’ve dreamed it so
spent nights, half asleep envisioning what her fingertips would feel like against my skin
or twisted amongst my hair.
i dream of cups of coffee in the morning
that she’ll make me
only to go cold and sit half drank upon the table beside us
because they will never be as caffeinated as her
i’ve spent countless nights alone
with my palm placed heavy upon my chest
checking that the dull thud of my heart still exists
and i wonder what it would feel like
to have the fire that is a woman next to me
and i wonder if i wouldn’t need my palm to check i existed
i wonder if it would feel like dreaming
or if i’d finally feel alive.