Listen up, sweater.

   take good care of my love now

         when her joy is boundless, hop around like a fool and
         revel in the excitement of each crisp little sound

                and in the cold nights lay warm beside her, whether as
                pillow or cuddlee and be the soft whisper for hands to hold
                the mooring point for beautiful dreams

                       (you are hers while I'm away because
                             I am hers no matter where I go)

            and in that rustle of fabric, that cloth to smooth skin
            do speak my name
                                 and retain all our scents when we laughed in her
                                 arms so she'll smile and close her eyes and
                                 burrow into you

listen up, sweater.
               take good care of my love now

I’ve found myself feeling sad at night.
This is not something I say to make myself sound poetic or wounded.
Because no one should ever try to be those things.
They just are.
But as I was saying.
I’ve been feeling sad at night.
And I’ve tried my hardest to find the root of this emotion
Because every morning I wake up with the sun on my shoulder
And I swear I couldn’t thank God enough for the chance to breathe again.
For the chance to see and feel another day.
But I’ve felt this emptiness lately that the night seems to share.
This feeling of unfullfilment.
I’ve thought a lot about the cause of it.
The reason for this.
But there is none.
If anything I have every right to feel fulfilled.
I’m breathing, I have family who are very much alive.
I have friends I speak with every day
And still.
There is something
Missing.
I don’t know what it is.
I haven’t the slightest idea.
And this alone is the most unsettling part.
No root.
No cause
Nothing.
A perfectly healthy 18 year old girl
Who finds herself unhappy at night.
Sounds strange to say outloud.
But there it is.
And I know some would call it selfish.
Stop ******* about your feelings when people are suffering
People are bleeding
People are starving
People are cold
And I’ve found that it’s very easy to say these things about people I don’t know.
But I don’t know the struggles of others , and they don’t know my struggles either
So I can only pray that people don’t say these things about me.
Selfish isn’t it?
Nothing worth talking about.
But still I am.
I’ll just wait for the morning.

cups of warm tea
shared together
over dog eared pages
on a cemented bench
covered with leaves
raindrops singing in tandem
to a rhythm known only to frogs
and here we sit
staring into the mist
wrapped in the warm blanket of silence

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
27.12.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish

I want to leave in the morning, around one.
I want to go as far as the gas tank will take us before stopping
I want to lay under the stars and fall asleep in the car.
I want to eat ****** food from gas stations and wonder where the hell we're going.
I want to do something crazy, something unpredictable and amazing.
I want to run into the ocean at dawn and laugh at the wind in my hair.
I want to scream at the moon on a swing set in the new light of the day.
I want to hold hands on the way home and then turn around and do it all over.
I want to take pictures and sing at the top of our lungs at stop lights despite the looks.
You want someone perfect.
You want someone without scars.
Without troubles
Without a hurt heart.
You want a love.... But i'm just not the one

Dust filled air and air filled lungs
Desert all around
I walk aimlessly as I am pushed
By walls of words, of sound
Buzzards flying overhead
Ready to swoop down
But here I am
Alive

Sun filled sky and sky filled eyes
Squinting as I look
The heat that beats down on me now
Feeling my skin cook
And words echo in my head
Buzzards over, sand and soot
And here I am
Wandering

Sand under feet and feet trudging sand
Legs longing to give way
Survive, survive, words tell me to
As my body, heavy, sways
And the buzzards tell me to ignore
To give up to the day
Yet still I stand and walk
Alive