Will you hear my wishes
Today, I am no dead man. But I am not happy, I will not lie to you.
I know I spoke to you last summer, and my voice must have
tasted like the breeze between seasons, all soft and kind. Those
are the only two things you ever seemed to like. I know that because
I've sat one foot across from you on days when you would allow me
to look at you. And all I would ever do is look, too scared to even have
our hands touch, but it did almost happen a few times. In the haze of the bright
Sun, my mind was a city of daydreams made of smaller dreams;
they seemed to be all about you, I wanted to sit next to you, across from you,
anywhere where your eyes could fall easily to. Hear you talk about how you think
the things everyone likes are overrated, hear you talk about the food you like cooking,
how you think that walking around at 11pm is the most fun thing to do in this
unfun city. I'd like to listen to the days pass by and I'd like to be greedy and
I'd like to ask you to hold me and bring our days close together, bit by bit by bit by bit.
Love is a decision only to be made after you've seen the sorrow in each other's hearts
so look at me, see me, grow to know me, tell me how I can see the sorrow you hold on to.
Show me if your grief can live with mine, tell me a story over mundane food neither of us like.
Love is a decision
We live past the unhappiness of today, we always do. Even in death we outlive it all.
So live through it, hold my shaky hand and hear my shaky voice
I exist under your sighs, waiting to see the lines under your eyes crinkle up in a smile
one day, when the sun doesn't burn as much, when the curse of the days lessen on us—
when we're tired of saying 'I'm tired' to each other—
I'd like to sit across from you again, then.
Raian Abedin is a contributor and a regular at SHOUTxDSBooks Slam Poetry Nights.