NOW

I want to know why you have turned into this person,
a person you weren't when, at least, I was there in the depths of your heart.
Why is there an unfriendly smile for me without reason,
when I was the one who made fired up your emotions and made them start.

But then again, does it matter?

Not really..

But I did occupy space with you and I did share mass,

I did sit on the same bench, the same swing set,

I did hold your shoulder when you would cry,

And I did soothe your nose when it was swollen and wet,

I did write a thousand words for you,

And I did call you over.

I did console you with a caressing voice,

And I did wish the best for you,

Until and also after it was over.

But surely, I did matter then and I don't matter now.

Is 'now' now? Or the second that went by,

or 2 seconds before that,

or 3 or 4....

But this 'now' is desperately long.

I have not been replaced in namely position yet,

but in the emotional position I held.

I know it's complicated but now there is somebody else who holds your hand,

And hugs you back,

And makes you laugh.

But I don't think there is someone who can write a thousand words for you,

All true

And full of meaning.

But then again, our now stretches forever into the hours and days and months next.

Don't hurt me

Words hurt, like

“You’re stupid” right to the heart’s core.

He runs away;

And slams the door.

Reaches home and holds a blade,

Tears fall down in a cascade.

He says, “where did I go wrong?

I have tried to be so strong.”

But he draws bloody lines on his arm,

Running through in his- a storm.

He drops the blade and washes his body,

Cries, “”why can I not be more sporty?”

“Why do people hate my fat?”

They answer,

“Because you are the only one who has that flab.”

He skips gym class,

Despite being a scholar with full marks.

Receives a C+ Grade,

Because he was scared, didn’t attend the class.

Hoping for just one friendly smile,

To help him walk that extra mile.

….he was scared.

Lonely in the whole world,

Fearful not of the dark but the monsters in it.

Apprehensive not of his body but the people who kill it.

Why can’t fat not be beautiful?

Why can’t people learn to accept themselves and others,

The way the really are?

Why does someone’s pimple or his maggi hair bother you?

The pimple wouldn’t but the words will always leave a scar.