Could've-beens

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I do not want to feel it;
But every early morning
A certain restlessness creeps into my bed 
Gently stroking the surface of my head
Sending down tingles of misery,
Paralysing every trinket of hope.

What could it be, I wonder
Desperately finding a way around the fact
But alas, temporary consolation
Is now falling short in covering the act

It has been you, just you
Victorious, both in capturing my fancy 
And making me feel inadequate. 
You, and your uninhibited ways -
Refreshing and reckless,
And nonchalant (and demeaning) demeanour 
Were never for me. 

How could I be so wrong? 

When I saw you then,
I thought about possibilities
When I see you now, 
I think about my flaws.

I do not want to feel it;
But I feel resentment.
For wounding me in your own strange way
For making it seem like it will never go away
And for lingering and hovering like a bunch of moths 
Around any found remnants of light.

But fortunately, this isn’t about you, or me,
Well not anymore at-least.
It’s about casting away –
And this time, it will be me doing it. 

Casting away all that I vehemently
Do not want to feel. It has had it’s time. 

So here goes - 
Longing, disappointment, heartbrokenness, loneliness
Angst, despair, rage, hatred
Insufficiency, incompetence, invalidity, ignorance
Hope, love, what-could’ve-beens, you. 












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