When you're in love
It hurts when he hurts,
His face is the joy you want.
His steps are the ones you wish to tread,
Everything lacks something without him,
His touch is ecstasy .
You wish he were a part of yourself,
So you could carry him around;
Slowly you realize,
He's growing on you,
And you on him.

……………………………..
Taking some of my breath away from me ,
And giving some of his to me each time,
He  grew through me,
And I through him .

Being away from you kills me,
the warmth of your touch,
as you held my dimpled cheek,
against you,
with my tears wetting your shirt-
still lingers there,
as if twere never gone.

You went away ,
taking a part of me with you;
now here i am,
i do not know where my soul is,
perhaps its still clinging onto you,
refusing to let go

.Now leaning on the balcony,
with the setting sun beams,
poring through my eyes ,
my mind's all in for you;
your black curious eyes,
fixed on mine,
as you held me in your arms,
against the balcony-
my heart always seemed to float away...
  


Seeing you only makes it worse,
bits of those forever torn 'moments'-
trying to poke their heads back in,
the  excrutiating  pain as the bits tear through to me,
i can only but bear 'em ;
as  your messy hair in the morning,
as your embarrassing smile,
as you,.. my dear,
enclose me in painful happiness.

He stood before me,
Inspecting his broken toy.
What flickers through his mind,
I do not know.
But he smiles occasionally ,
The gap from the recently dropped front teeth gaping at me.
His eyes amaze me.
Every look familiar to me now,
The wide grin giving away his mischief,
Is my favourite.
His stubbornness is short lived.
He settles for the little joys of ice cream,
His batman costume pushed backstage,
(Well, at least  for now).

He puts on a brave face-
Except for the ‘spideys’.
His tiny hand waved reluctantly,
He leaves for school.
All that amazes him looks new to me.
With him,
I become the kid I once was.
Discovering more of me,
As he discovers the world ,little by little.

I feel the tinge of pain again.
No ,It  isnt the wounds that hurt ,
But everything else-
The look of sarcasm,                                                                              
The look of disgust,
The silence of loneliness,
The winds of abandonment,
The occasional  frown,
The nameless torture,
The unwanted shameful fame,
The experience of impaired humanity……

As I feel the rope tightening round my neck,
I enjoy the painful bliss;
I pass into the unknown-
Nameless .
Weak.
Stripped of respect ,
Of dignity,
Of all things human.