sound of silence

Wipe the slate clean. Chapters in life disappear leaving behind the clots of pain and penance. The oft repeated question… the why and the how… like a reptile coiling around its prey. Turn the page to begin from the first milestone, to write the same melody in different words, to stage the same play with different characters.
Sometimes your biggest strength goes against you! Whatever you say, whatever you do, hits back on you with a strange irony; as if life gave up on you.
The signs remain. From the recesses of the mind to the drafts of the e-mail box, words dipped in emotions, phrases bearing stories and sentences drafting stories, the past looks back with a smirk. This is what you had mate!! And look at you now! And all cause of what you are… who you are! You can blame the other(s) but can only feel bad for the part you played in loss…
Wish I could stop staring back, wish I could forget the past but maybe deep down I can only keep the case open… open for an understanding. Hoping for a chance to hold on…
Hope, the opium of life. Do you sacrifice your self-respect for anyone? Maybe you do not try too hold on… the fast pace of life makes you too busy… but then it is never the same again. The deserted road in the pitch-black night is not the same. The chill in the air with the hint of rain… the streetlights etching the crooked shadows stretched on the asphalt… the conversations- have changed.
There is a vacuum that cannot be defined in words. There is a lost story. There is the beginning of the end. I have never written for a purpose, I have felt what I have written, believed in every word but for the first time the words seemed to disintegrate. Their motive, their essence was questioned. They were just rendered value-less.
I remain good with words in my own fabricated existence. What I lost can be tabulated… what I sacrificed can be listed but what I am left with is nothing… it was never a gain for me; it was just about life turning back and giving you a hand. It was just about faith and belief. I had never known what I am left with. I do not know if I am right in holding on but who can judge the repentance within? Who can question a realization borne? But a chance I didn’t get…
We never know what is best for us when we have them but in the sense of loss is there the true sense of worth. Maybe it is not reciprocated. Maybe there is worth and there is none on the other side…
Wish I could… but wishes have never come true… life moves on and days are melting into weeks.. months might roll by… but the drafts of a dream, the threads of a story line would generate the vapors inside… wish I could be good with words… wish I could have one magic wish… if only wishes were safe…Some things never change. Some things define life… and some people define you. I have lost all three… and all I have left are the words… which I am good with. The perfect words-worth!