Someone lives in me
Someone I don't yet know of
But “who” knows me
Knows me well enough to hold me
the parts that I feel unworthy of
And to hold it in a way
that it hurts and
sucks the life out of itself
Withers it from inside
makes it weak and mild
But at least it's being held
In a way it might not have wanted to
just like she didn't want to be left
Left the way she was, then and now- like always
Left by those whose fingers brushed her
And she thought they will hold her
Left by those whose words touched her
And she thought they meant it
Left by those she found her peace in
And then found herself in pieces
In front of them and in their absence
Especially because of their absence
And sometimes because of their unwelcoming presence
She is tired now, being in pieces
And told she can love in peace
But fear -her foe sometimes her friend
Tells her to stick to pieces
Fear controls her, sometimes without her knowledge
Sometimes she controls fear- enough so that it stays
The only thing she feels control over is her fear-
But at least she feels something, when in pieces
If not fear, at least she feels broken
If not broken at least she feels held
If not held, at least she feels absence
Because absence has been her feeling
A feeling known to her, a feeling she feels belonged to
In which she loves and loses
Loses parts of herself she found in others
Parts of them in which she found in herself
She loses it all in their absence
And calls it the fate of love
A love she could never have
A love she only felt, because she gave
Because she felt giving
And because it was meant to take her away
So that she meets herself once again
This time in their absence
She lives, maybe thrives but at least learns to survive- atleast with herself
Sometimes all by herself
Other times in their false presence
But at least in pain
Or away from it
At least tired but not stagnant
Like her love stories, like her stories of pain
Stories of absence, neglect, hurt and sorrow
All that she bears alone now
As fate must have it
She has to bear it alone but maybe be less lonely now
Because she has herself- her ultimate God- her own being
Her own spirit- one with God
The one who cannot be seen yet be felt
Unlike the absence of others,
God to her is present
And with God only, her fears are less present
At least for a while
At least until the sun sheds its light
Maybe a little beyond, minutes after dawn
When cries hit her, it hits God
To hold her again, but this time with love
The way she wants to be held
Because only God can
And only God did it the way she wanted to be held
Maybe she accepts it, at least this time
Because God's absence is known to her
At least for a while
And she cannot afford that-
At least for her life.
- Vasundhara Pande