Chala jaon ga

I exist within the space between your future and your past. I exist within the shadows that your body writhing atop your lover casts. I exist inside your sighs, between the echo of your laughter and your cries.

Between remembering and trying to forget. That passing nth of a second in which you close your eyes only to make the lump in your throat recede is where I find myself inextricably manifested for perhaps all of time yet to come. And perhaps beyond it. Perhaps you will pass me on like an unwanted disease to all those who accidentally fall in love with me like you were about to and within their moments of regret I will find immortality and reprieve, yet you the biggest azmayesh.

I lie alone, and afraid. Recoiling at the sudden rush of remembering all my sins for which I’m punished in the horror of losing you. I flounder like a drowning tim tam being pulled beneath by those obnoxious black tim tam eaters (M and Ns) the surface of my own immorality. Suffocating beneath the burden of my own impurity of thought and action, my own failure to make you fall in love with me

But until then, I must exist, like the shadows must and as must the light. To see you realize me like the eternal stench of regret. I must exist to see you find solace if not in me then anyone else. I must exist until you cease to, and therefore this death of existence that I chose for myself is just an attempt to find again the solace I have only ever known in your arms

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