Sign Language

When you ask me to write about me,

You are looking for what I am in metaphors and rhymes.

But I tell you mere stories. Stories about other people

About places that exist only in my head and only half real

How do I make you smell the fragrance of rain wet mud in the

Courtyard of my imagination?

How do I make you see that my songs are paintings of despair and they end up having more grey than color? But grey is a color too.

My grey songs won’t fulfill any higher purpose of yours.

They’re only meant for instant knowledge and instant destruction

You ask me to write of things that might make sense to you, to others,

When I cannot make sense of my thought worlds most of the time.

But that’s all that there is left to do.

To make signboards of parts of me for someone to decipher

It feels like the end of the world is not some distant day but now.

Now when doors are shut. Now when no one is awake but me

Now when there is no place to go. But to you.

Its like the universe is playing snakes and ladders with us

Sending us to different people either for the better or worse

Until we find each other on the same page number of the book called life.

Love, was a strange word even when I heard it for the first time

And I wonder whether it is something that people find worth

Spending their entire lifetime to figure out.

Love they say is the password, the cliché but the hope in the end

Love is you being the smile in someone’s poetry

It is also the terrible feeling when you start wishing with your guts

That if only disapparation were true, it would be worth getting splinched.

And now I know again my words make no sense, but it’s okay

Because everyone is caught in the web

They’re stuck aching and fixated at some sticky end

But all they have to do is follow their trail to the center when it’s time.

So I hope that this is one page closer, one ladder up to you some place on the game board.

And I wish that this web of words that I weave might someday lead you to me.

Even if it is for a while, for a passing.

If not, then you have better places to be...