Choosing a Blame


28/10/2014 by Siddiqui Fayesal

I followed the tried and tested
And yet failed all my life.
The fruits of the tree I sowed
Were bitter.
Bitter was the aftertaste
Of the honey I was offered
As an antidote.

The people who walked with me
Were nothing but fakirs
Who promised me peace.
All they could manage was
Plastic Love. It lasted long but it lacked

Maybe this is just the bitter aftertaste
Of the seeds I grew myself.

Far from the finger game,
I don’t play them surely,
I would love to blame myself
If only to be able to
Squeeze and hold on to the past.

For if the blame is mine I can
Go to my knees and say my sorry,
If the blame isn’t mine,
I can still man up and fake it.

The Love I experienced was
A little different than what
Was professed to me.

It didn’t walk with me by its
Choosing. Although, it never said
No if I asked.

It didn’t smile at me in the
Night’s darkest hour.
Although it hugged me tight
If I asked.

I have a trail that reminds me of
The path we took.
I have a trail of papers and poems,
Of bills and bottles,
Of medications that cured my
Headache but, alas, not for long.

I have all that holds my past
To facts.
It happened.
It is well documented.

The emptiness is telling a
Different story now.

The hazy lines between
Fantasies and Dreams have all
But merged.
Was it all just for nothing, I ask
In a daze.

I reach out in the
Darkness trying to find
The hand that would hold
Me tight.

I clutch the wisp of air
That almost smells of a
Person I had known.

The silhouette is there,
The shadow strong.
The darkness knows where it
Belongs though, and
I know very soon
My past will vaporize into

Just like the air I trapped
In my hands that leaked
Out the little life
I had.

Siddiqui F.

NB: Written at the Cuffe Parade CCD. The last three lines were added a day later.

2 thoughts on “Choosing a Blame

  1. Aditya says:

    I saw this coming… 🙂
    Well-written as usual.

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