poetry

[84] Holding Out Your Hand

by Rahul Gaur

A monochromatic answer to my
neon glow query
A laugh that distils rebuke
to my naive little worry
Nothing really happened
according to you
while I was battling with gigantic spacecrafts
filled with aliens from the galaxy of assumptions
and suddenly
The surroundings turned orange
I walked passively beyond your magnetic repulsion
and found myself free of all that you are
A black hole that sucks in my brightest day
A tsunami that drowns what I’ve built for myself

You realise that something did happen
and walked with a purpose towards me
while I lost mine
The dust-storm turned from orange to grey
and the momentary peace turned into a lasting anomaly
of me turning back towards you,
Watching you make the effort I’d always wanted you to

We walk towards each other
The centre of which has a broken Roman statue
That held its hand towards nothingness
still hoping that it will hold it back
But we don’t meet at the centre
We meet somewhere closer to your world
A world that’s monochromatic
away from the neon glow

Time does its thing
and it seems like nothing really happened
according to you
while I was battling with gigantic spacecrafts
filled with aliens from the galaxy of assumptions
and suddenly
I never returned, while you waited at the centre
holding out your hand towards
nothingness.

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