Dearest pillow,

Lately, I have felt days melt into nights like a dream. Or a remembrance. Do I want to wake up?

We had an exquisite little ship-in-the-bottle on the mantelpiece back at home, a source of constant fascination for the eight year-old me. Was the ship home? Was it trapped? It must be lying unheeded now, collecting dust, like so many of my memories. However in the world did the ship get in there?

However in the world did I get here?

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I seek to create my masterpiece
On this white board of expectation
I splash it with red and grey, purple and black
But wish it to shine golden.

I tirelessly knit strand upon strand of hope,
Each imprint falling just a stitch or two short;
These multicolour messed up proofs of my feeble attempts
Would they dare to fare somewhat better than the white default?

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A precarious balance
Right at the edge of a steep cliff
Everything hanging on tenterhooks;
The gentlest of pushes and down it all goes
A mad downward spiral.
I strain to see but in vain, the end evades me
But the heart knows as it hits rock bottom,
Fragmenting into a million pieces
Countless tiny particles of dust,
Hopes and dreams and tears and fears
Everything that makes up the whole me.
Sometimes a delirious unrest
Straining against the shackles of my mind
And sometimes like an astral body unharmed,
I gaze upon I, sitting amidst the tattered bits of my life.

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Spring 2017
(Read caption)

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Dearest pillow,

Someday I will send a tale out into the world.

Will it be a hurricane you reckon, ripping whole worlds apart or a gentle drizzle for a parched soul? Or perhaps it will be destined to remain a forgotten cloud, hovering unseen, unheard. I however, like to imagine it to be floating out there, a snowflake, frail yet enduring, a testament that I lived and breathed and loved.

Yes. Someday, my story will not be untold anymore.

Till then, just keep hearing me out.
Tanya

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Have you ever dashed into someone
Like the turbulent union of two raging oceans?
Wave upon wave crashing onto and consuming your entire heart..

[Excerpt]

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Insomnia begets insomnia.

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My spirit
traverses eternities
in leaps and bounds

I am bottomless
I am boundless

How will this puny
mass of flesh and bones
contain me?

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It doesn't matter how devoted you
were in the beginning.
If you cannot see it through
till the end, maybe your heart
wasn't in it after all.

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Well you need to have so many sheep in order to become a shepherd.

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