They only want you once you’re better, and there’s no taste of tears on your skin ....
By Robert Herrick
Love in a shower of blossoms came
Down, and half drown’d me with the same;
The blooms that fell were white and red;
But with such sweets commingled,
As whether (this) I cannot tell,
My sight was pleased more, or my smell;
But true it was, as I roll’d there,
Without a thought of hurt or fear,
Love turn’d himself into a bee,
And with his javelin wounded me;
From which mishap this use I make;
Where most sweets are, there lies a snake;
Kisses and favours are sweet things;
But those have thorns, and these have stings.
By Amna Ameer
There’s nothing written on the typewriter for you to read
No book in the library missing its place
No conversation awaiting in the summer evening
Only words that no longer fill the blank spaces
There is nothing unconditional about feelings that are gauged
Now everyday it must seem like a long wait
As minutes turn to hours and then to days
I wonder I mustn’t be the only one whiling life away
There should be a scared? Sacred? corner for me to stay
A place to cherish happiness and keep sadness at bay
A place to feel safe and heard and whole
But why is it that I feel alone in every way?
No shoulder to cry on, no empathic ear to lend some time
Only judgemental remarks,
‘Oh, what has happened this time?’
I know one must grow up and swallow the heavy pill
Your struggles are yours and no one else’s
Even if they claim to complete you from within
It is all a bargain, a give and take
And no one wants to take a life that is destined for a kill
There’s no room for struggling minds barely making it
They only want you once you’re better, and there’s no taste of tears on your skin
For even if a flicker of shadow smears your face with sadness
They want to wash it with bleach and the guilt of your sins
Because no one wants a heart that keeps breaking
They only want you when the wave has passed
And all the clutter has been washed away with the wind
The sand no longer holds footprints of those who caused the broken ribs
They pass by like ghosts of a past that is lost
No name for it to be called
No label to keep it caged
Just some years of a life that is already forsaken
There’s no place for someone who wants to break away
So might as well empty the luggage of people and places
Embrace the demons that keep joy at bay
And see for once the people with the truths they disseminate
And hold them by the collar and tell them they’re never to be trusted again
This bargain is lost, and all profit is set aflame
It is not just for the broken to carry all the weight.
Compiled by SK
