।। A.M. Fahad ।।
Do you want my hands/ Will they be enough to keep you warm
With a few thousand stars sneaking up on a night sky
Mostly filled with bugs and insects among other insignificant creatures
Look outside the window to the sound of the music
And you will find an orchestra of crickets sprawled across a thin patch of grass
After the moths finish dilly-dallying with their chores
You will find them rotting in the water-clogged sink until
A hope for tomorrow reveals itself over the trash bin
With leftovers and scraps from last night’s meal.
I was one such insect
Do you want my hands
Will they be enough to keep you warm
When the mice trapped in glue contemplate life after their death
They envision a next time with the trap out cold and a thousand suns up for taking
I was a creature blinded by such desire
What do you think of desire?
A mishmash, a sandwich of simmered-down brain soup made of longing and yearning
An unwanted baby of nostalgia and the lack thereof stuck between a world of two abstract ideas
Picture a white canvas. Now splash as many colors as you can with your bare hands.
Can you stand in front of the mirror and stand the gaze you find your way
I may have pinned my head with a hammer and a nail in the process of giving you my hand
And I may have set myself on fire to keep you warm and covered you up with the ashes of my remains in the scanty aftermath of my death. So I ask you this
Is that still
not enough for you
I am trapped here, somewhere among these flaky pigments of emotional jargon
I have been here before. I have always been living here.
I painted my bare bones a decaying shade of brown trying to fit into your idea of love.
I will break free. I will break free.
A.M. Fahad is an aspiring poet and writer from Dhaka. He uses vivid imagery and elements of nature to encapsulate his emotions with words, which often end up in a thought train rather than a conclusion. Find him at amfahad1747@gmail.com.