Time Out

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Here I lie, on the ground,
Wallowing in, without a sound,
A river of your mirth,
I dive in for a rebirth,
And come out a changed man,
With a yearning in my throat,
To call my insides out,
But can’t,
For you want
A time out in the quiet,
Where my company is not allowed,
And all those people you have around –
The lucky ones,
Take your tonight for granted,
And pilfer your thoughts away,
Only to lose them during the day,
While here I have a bagful of you,
Tightening around my chest,
Only ‘I’ listen to them lest
You should get disrupted
By my causality.
I am yet to find a name
For this aching appetite
That hankers for your taste –
Unworldly and unearthly,
I must be unworthy of your race,
While you go on uphill,
Wondering out loud still,
“How daft of this man!
Who can’t even handle a strand
Of a departure,
Let alone a rupture,
As if people really go,
When they go,
That they go missing,
When they don’t come back.
But that has always been a choice,
Something he doesn’t really have.”

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