The Soulful Atom

I wait.. Sitting here on a metal bench. Waiting for my bus. Waiting for you.
Come realizations flash by. Their sudden light harsh in my eyes. Through darkness. I look down to avoid their unmistakable glare. Tears streaming.. Streaking dust ridden parched cheeks. I wonder if you would notice me sitting here. in all your hurry for everything else. Wonder if you ever really noticed me. Even after you had said you did. I wait wondering. What was it that I did or did not?
Why am I to wait always?
Why am I to ask?
Why is it my heart that cries out.. Unheard.. And then declares defeat
Why am I not wanted and what do I miss? Why do I wait after the hurt?
Why is it that i can love n not be loved back? Why is it that i wait always n be never be awaited, fought for..
Why does my broken splintered heart still hope?
Why the wait always?

Sorry for any grammatical errors in terms of ukar and velanti's :)

तो गातो, त्या कवितेचे शब्द

गोड, मधुर.. हृदयाला स्पर्षणारे, तेचाळणारे स्वर..

तो गातो माझ्या कानी..

अलगद, हळूच, नाजूक..

दूर कुठे तरी शांत, हिरव्या ठिकाणी नेऊन ठेवतात ते,

गातअसताना नकळत माझ्या कानापाशी त्याच्या ओठांचे रोमांच उभे करणारे हलके स्पर्ष..

तो वागतो असा की काहीच आगळे नाही..

भासवतो जणू मिच फक्त त्याच्या मनीची राणी..

हसतो, असतो.. रेंगाळतो, ओढवतो.. स्वप्नळतो, असतो..

पण हृदयात त्याच्या खोल आत दडली आहे ती..

नेहमीच होती.. नेहमीच राहील..

ती, जशी मी कधीच नाही..

नवते आणि नसेन..

अलगद, एक अश्रू डोळी येऊन थबकते..

त्या प्रेमाची आस त्या निखळ प्रेमाची अपुरी वासना होऊन तरंगते

आणि त्याच्या प्रश्णा मुळे हळुवार खाली ओघळते..

मी नवते आणि कधीच नसेन..

त्याच्या कवितेच्या स्वरात..

तो गातो माझ्या साठी माझ्या बरोबर ती गोड अशी कविता..

तो गातो ती आठवणीत गुरफटलेली कविता..

नकळत ती आठवण मलाच होते..

ती.. जशी मी नाही..

Wrapped up in sexy black and some shimmer
Cool head and warm wet lips..
Shining burning bright eyes. Alive.
Oh she's a mess.
She loves too much!
She's a royal mess..

Black lacey sandals, like she always wanted
Cuddling sleek feet ending on long legs..
A strut so proud, so confident is the walk..
Oh she's a mess!
She gives too much..
She's a broken mess..

A big black diamond sits on a finger
Emitting a dull glow, swallowing the darkness around..
The finger curls around the blood red wine glass, it taps, the finger of the ring, the ring finger
Oh she's a mess!
She lives too much..
She's a dead mess..

The evening passes by, the seat is not filled.
Its reserved, always reserved.
Her bright eyes droop slightly, as something flickers off in them.
She is clever but too transparent now, naked through all that black.
The shoe drops as her ankle rises up to stay folded, warm under her buttock.
The ring moves around, as she plays with it while the waiter fills wine..
She smiles at him, he smiles back. Warm, knowing, but with a slight alarm.
Its almost 12 now. He pities her. They all do. She doesn't. She just wonders and questions.
She loves black. The black mess.
There are no answers. They are black like a void. They are all dumbed by her. She wonders why.
Why are they frightened? Why do they scarper?
Do they not have their truth with them? Do they not have their light within them?
Are they unaware of language? Of any language?

For the dumb can speak too if they will to!

Sigh, what a mess, she says. What a royal, broken, dead mess!
Shall i come back tomorrow then? I shall, for i want to. Even if you don't. Even if i wish u did. For i am a mess.