Why Shed Tears For The Bird You Killed?

No, I won’t open up to you
For suddenly you think you will be my home.

For a home requires patience and genuine care
And you were never there, for me!

No, I cannot empty myself to you,
For emptying things requires another empty hearse.

I cannot take more of judgements, mocks or stories on me
Even if I do drag me to you one day, you would shove “I am busy” and “These are normal” on my face.

I would not dare emptying again to you when now you say, you will listen and only listen
As you were never there, for me!

No, I won’t open my door for you,
Because now you say you hold a torch

You say you would ward away my darkness – when you don’t even know if it’s dark inside or without

You don’t know if I have blinds drawn on a sunny afternoon or is it genuinely grey out there

You even don’t know if I want you to burn down my darkness or just sit with me, in the dark and warm my cold hands;

No, my door’s closed and there’s no opening now,
for when I put flowers and lights and invited you back then,

YOU CALLED ME DESPERATE AND HUNGRY FOR ATTENTION

And to walk in my door, you need My shoes and none of you wanted to remove yours.

No, my door’s closed and there’s no opening now;
For you were never there, for me!

My funeral needs no eulogy, my graves need no flowers ;
No candles or black gowns; no crying and more of “Open up to us” posts

For you who has come after I finally rest, never did come when I was running.

You laughed at me for being that way, laughed at my signs, my empty birthday posts, my existence:

You used me then, you are using me now
WHY SHED TEARS FOR THE BIRD YOU KILLED?

Why come now when my loud cries couldn’t make you ask me;
why speak of me when you never spoke to me when I was breathing?

O! You put roses, lilacs and pictures on my grave
When you, yes you, weren’t there, ever, for me.

Soumya Shree

I breathe. I exist. I read.