Am I 3 or 13 or 30 again?

 

I write.

on days when it is a sea of storms,

on days I cannot go to the sea that storms

I write.

So I could still put it all down

whether I am 3 or 30,

a way of reaching Dad whether I speak of him

or not.

Grandad keeps circling my mind,

the way my dad used to

a melancholy hum on day to day

Life will always be bittersweet once

you are away from home.

My mother used to handle it well

even if they weren't taught

what it meant when one spoke

of depths hidden and deep.

She still let me be

In places she couldn't reach

Sitting there watching sky

While I crawled back to her slowly

whether I am 30 or 3

Loneliness haunts me

Whether I am 30 or 3

It is not an extension I got

from my mother my father or thee

I have honed it inside me

when I created those world(s) inside me

while I was trying to escape from the reality

Some days the act of creating tragedies of my day

disgust me to my core

some days I still resort to it

to soothe my soul

happiness always felt a bit difficult to swallow

but all good things feel difficult

better to get it done at the start

maybe that's why nights are easier

in days I am trying to survive

in nights my melancholy thrives

my grandad again circled my mind

it is never poetry

all these stories of life

where you feel lost before the story takes

the next turn

In a crossroad you can stay for years

and when the next path shows

one must push oneself to take

one step

or those crossroads keep coming back

I try to aim for a new cross road each time

but I admit I do not succeed everytime

He circled my mind again

Am I 3 or 13 or 30 again?

#musings #dailylife #adulting #humanlife #home #writing #literature #art #family #childhood #life