Dear Misery

I think we’ve danced enough and a little too passionately on this burning floor. You came to me with the allure that no woman possesses, kissing me tenderly at first and then breathing me in. And I guess I gave in, because men aren’t born men, they rise and grow, or drown in the abyss of circumstance, flailing, trying to swim like children when they’re first thrown in a pool. But minutes turn into hours, and hours into days, and days into months, and months into years, and as I watched you, you grew more beautiful, fascinating and stayed young, but age and rage shook me with each glance and touch. And then something struck, breaking me out of obsolescence, and they can call it whatever they want, but it broke the statue I’d become, and helped me see that you were cheating on me with every other person around me, and using me in some uncanny way to do it. And now, there’s a girl who admits that she’s just as guilty, and work which demands bringing back the attention you sucked out of me, and so, I’m dumping you without a phone call or even a text. I’m sure you’ll try coming back now and then, wearing the most enchanting dress, but I think I’m sticking with her, and even if nothing goes my way, I’ll die trying, never touching you again, but at the hands of Fate who just might be more forgiving.

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2017)

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2 thoughts on “Dear Misery

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