If you knew me

You’ll have to decide if what I did was selfless or selfish,
if you knew me well enough to say, ‘I understand,
though I don’t fully comprehend,’ when you found me
in a pool of crimson, having risen over the plenitude
with its chaotic cacophony, playing their out-of-tune
flutes to the rhythm of societal restriction,
screaming, ‘Coward! Milksop! Mouse!’ Or if you
knew me well enough to shriek, ‘Betrayer!
Traitor!’ And join the minstrels of darkness, wearing
their robes, deeming me as someone who’s
fundamentally fucked, twisted in the head, with
motes of self-loathing revolving around a sick
mass of cells, trapped forever in an antechamber,
never finding you or redemption’s light,
boxing walls and snuffing out candelabra
with bare skin and calloused edges, burning,
howling, screaming, until raw pain defeated me,
saying, ‘I never loved anyone but myself; so
destroy, dismantle and devastate me.’ I know you
didn’t attend, while my father’s histrionic tears
and my mother’s cool ardor gave thirty years
a red and blue, or black and white semantic,
I know you stayed home, though they thought you
unsympathetic, unkind and unloving—
a Barbie doll who flashed her teeth when he
stood strong, but I also know you better, and though
me feeling the slice of the natural ribbon disoriented
and disgusted you, you looked through the
album in your mind, pictures now sepia, of us
holding hands, kissing in the twilight, or making
love to the crescent’s faint lilt, and wondered,
‘Did I really?  Did I actually mean?’ and I want
you to know darling, that you were the woman
who actually gave everything, and meant it all,
but it was me, forever romantic, hoping on a
Liebesträume—a song of perfection, with its
flowing nuance and subtle semantic, who
lost himself to utopian ideals, and now lies
buried with his ’cause,’ disdain and foolishness.

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)

Protected by Copyscape

14 thoughts on “If you knew me

  1. A tremendously hard-hitting write Nittin, you’ve not just delved deep , you’ve ripped both heart and soul asunder and left them bare, exposed , for judgement. And that judgement is a perfected truth and honesty is both moving and powerful.

    1. Thank you Nigel. Bleeding on a page is what I do best. And I left it ambiguous because I wanted her to make the judgement. Thank you again. Your kind words mean a lot.

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