Expectations are the baggage we carry
Getting cumbersome, with each passing day
We always get the unexpected from it
Our back seems to be crumbling under the burden
Weaving a web of expectations, and getting entangled
Unable to ameliorate the obfuscated mind
Reciprocating, with the intention of fulfilling expectations
Our steps become heavily laden, unable to walk
Even though a life beckons without the paraphernalia
We have already walked away from it, with our expectations**




© Amitav (Radiance)

I had a dream
that you tried to **** me with a hammer.



I guess this means you don't love me.

It consists of this,
all of it and none
I found solace in that
which I could not hold
but only cherish as fond memoirs
of a terrible moment in time

Never full, never empty
it turned into an addiction
derogation of the unwise, with no premise
bawls and shrieks have no place here
this is silent lucidity capsized
hundreds of expressions explaining one thing
one thing that explains it all

Destination: lost
with no means to propel the self
into a promising new day,
pray tell, what will break down the wall
self loathing and misanthropy creates
alone in a crowd, here, but far away
none of it is that important anyway

The smile stealer, grin eater
mood killer, running short of edification
It's never alone; in bed with misery
the smallest things distress
the grandest of thoughts
wanting reprieve, searching escape
as if you could
die and stain pride?

No

Cowardice is lower than this
not worse, just pathetic
but please, ignore my terrible advocacy,
everything is half off today
I'm feeling generous.

I wish I felt like clarity and nothingness, or that intangible vapour like stuff which comes off of a power washer at a car wash
in a dark car park
the car's owner absent, away shopping

You were the one who put your fingers in my mouth
I'm supposed to be embarrassed and disappointed
I am both

I suspect you are a good person
you have a sister
who you love
I bet you are different when you go home
I bet you are nice
I hope they know what you do
You are a classical easy ****

But I'm just syllables and escort clothing
For a while I quite liked that
In fact I'm proud
My friends find it funny

You liked the smell of my hair
And gradually I'm piecing these notes together
I think that if I had more crushed up note pages grinding into your back
You would have remembered me

I'm pretending that if you taste that scent again, you'll know
I still have some of you attached to the garments at the bottom of a full laundry basket

sadness and emptiness are two different things
emptiness is absence of feeling, and sadness is pain
emptiness is the feeling of no feeling at all,
sadness is the crippling enabler that makes you feel small
sadness has a cure, or so it seems
emptiness, however,  is a very unsolvable thing