Dreams

By Aditi Sayil

I have fleeting dreams,

Of the life I had,

Had, not 'lived.'

I smile on the surface,

To hide the harrowing anguish,

Disdain I have of myself.

Every passing second, minute, hour, day,

I neither know, nor am I aware,

Of what made me lose my way.

Slowly memories flood,

It's torrent a revolting migraine,

Nostalgia crept in,

It’s claws gnawing on my tender wounds.

My brain burns,

Like a live body catching fire,

As I wriggle out of memories,

Misery, apathy and then, nothing.

Dreams are- friends

On a late evening, watching sunset,

In a cafe, chatting worries away,

Smiles that make tears vanish,

Hands held into an enticing eternity

Dreams are foes,

When eyes open,

Thrusting with reality

If hands weren't held,

There wasn't a cafe chat either.

Dreams are sinister,

They make me meet,

The past version of myself,

A known stranger, a lone wolf,

Strange, I whisper,

I do not remember myself,

Nor I ever will.

By Aditi Sayil