Cold Facts

Come, let us think of new things, new
metaphors in new years. No more talk
of whirling fans, curling cigarette smoke, staying
up at nights. They are overdone, like
our sadness. The world is tired.

We need new examples-new jokes, new
ways to laugh at ourselves-new ways to
mock our sadness. You need more
elaborate means to pretend I
never was. I need more colourful lies to forget.

I do not have to write about every night I
stay awake, staring at the fan, or the embers in
the ashtray-let me for once mock that image. Maybe
I will hurt myself trying to hurt
the loneliness which is perhaps a lie.

Maybe, instead of trying to forget you, I
should stay sober, pondering what you meant
to me, my 'spiritual' growth, may be this
separation has made me grow, may be, it has taught
me things. Perhaps, I should ponder this.

Perhaps, I should stay awake at nights, now,
and think about the bigger things about being alive.
Perhaps, I should care about who I am, where
I am going, what did I learn from having
loved you. Perhaps, I should seek closure.

Only-I loved you. You are not here. And
I am sad. These are cold facts. I
have to live with them. And whirling fans.