I want you to know that
no matter how
                irrational
                                  ­illogical
             dissociated
                                 disconnected
                 sporadic
                                 scattered
                    erratic
                           ­      brusque
          anticlimatic
                                 abrupt
        idiosyncratic
                                 volatile
   temperamental
                            and
                   ­               fickle
are your emotions.
To me,
they are valid;
they are whole;
they suffice.
Because,
you are only as absurd as you believe you are.

And absurdity's boundaries stretches linearly,
into immemorial time.

I will never lose faith in humanity
Faith is illogical
And I try my best to be logical
I never had faith in the first place

They were each other's apparently,
Shrouded by the words: "Till death do us part".
They actually meant: "Only until-
Someone new crosses our path."

What happened to honesty?
Where did loyalty disappear?
Replaced conveniently by deceit,
Morality sits in the rear.

With ulterior motives,
Promises are made; I've seen a million.
I'm not being cynical,
Just practical in opinion.

The heart, hence, is stupid.
Steered purely by dopamine;
And that's why we have a brain.
Do not dwell into the irrational,
Tread carefully,
Life is a tricky mind game.

He has little sense of sorrow,
He thinks of fond tomorrows.
He’s a fabulist, a dreamer.
Not quite a true schemer
That would be too hard.
More like a half-awake bard
Making up poetic outcomes
For a reality that never comes.
Mostly he’s a ***.

He’s a moonbeamer,
Sliding down colorless rainbows
That he paints himself daily
Proclaiming about how gaily
The emptiness of his canvas
Has so sadly missed us
And somehow we are to blame
For not managing to be the same
As he is by appreciating
That which is not there.
He has daydreams to spare.

He shares his hopeful possibilities
That are not always practicalities
Made of unborn actualities
And fanciful surrealities
Painted over his shortcomings
Hoping nobody will see them
And talk too badly against them
Ahem-ing and coughing phlegm
When he orates and pontificates
On his latest boilerplate stories
Of his imagined future glories.
Lost in his own thought stream,
He’s a totally hopeless dreamer.

Tick, tock,
Thump, thump,
As the minutes go by,
The heartbeats seem to grow more strained.
Up at night,
Pacing,
Moving,
Weary from the constant movement,
Never resting,
I sit,
A temporary reprieve,
And then up again.
Walking,
Waiting,
Listening,
Terrified,
That at any point,
I could stop and wait to hear what I always hear,
And it will be silent.
Hushed is the house,
Creaking in slumber,
Like a great breath in the foundation,
And all else is silent to my broken ears,
Save the ringing when I strain to hear,
The inhale,
Exhale,
Of my loves ones.
I go to each door and stand,
As still as can be,
Watching for the rise of the chest,
A stirring hand,
A fluttering eyelid,
To remind me-
They are here,
They breathe,
Their hearts beat.
Every night,
I cannot rest,
Haunting the hallways,
Peering around doors,
And I wait,
Impatiently,
For dawn,
For the time when life is clear,
And the nightmare of death can be put to rest,
And only when the sun rises
And my beloved speak
And laugh
And move,
Can my restless limbs,
And shallow breath,
Be put to rest,
With the moon.