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Nayana Nair Apr 2018
There is a thought

that holds my hands

sometimes to save me from drowning,

sometimes to drag me down.

The thought that

all you say

and all I say

will be part of all the noise

that this world has already lost.

This world that had witnessed us together

will soon forget us.

And we won’t feel a thing a that time,

however we may dread that day right now.
Nayana Nair Mar 2018
I will place the promise of tomorrow

on your lips.

They will first taste of cyclones in my breath.

Then they will taste of desperate dying breath.

The will taste of light and of blindness.

They will taste of the dreams that slip from your eyes.

They will taste of the skin that

we are yet to grow.

They taste of things

that we are yet to lose.

I will place the promise of tomorrow

on your lips,

that will soon be your yesterday.

My promise will be memory of

passing trains and fading love.
Nayana Nair Mar 2018
Do not tell me your secrets.
Do not open your heart.
I have done same mistakes.
The boundaries that you erase
for the sake of love,
can never be made again.
It is a sad thing to bear
for you will always feel the hands
of your love
whispering of death.
They leave everytime
and yet death doesn’t come.
Nayana Nair Mar 2018
My dear,

Our hands muddied with smaller crimes
and greater guilts,
are the only hands that we have
to hold each other.
Our faults make up this love
is the only love that
can survive the deaths
of our hope and trust in each other.
Nayana Nair Mar 2018
Rivers of people
crowded the alleys of my mind.
Every thought of mine
had to go through them.
And they were relentless.
By the time it made through them,
it was not the same.
That beautiful new born thought
had turned into a old stranger.
I learned one thing
that I can never have a thought
or an action
that is truly my own.
And even when the building and the skies
of my mind decay,
the people in those alleys will live on.
Nayana Nair Mar 2018
Can we become better that what we are?
We dream of better future.
But we become worse, become bitter
every time our life runs into our worst dreams.
We hope to forget, we hope to let go.
But become restless, become hollow
looking at the parts we are missing
the parts we took from each other
that we have fed to our ego.
Can we become better that what we are?
Nayana Nair Mar 2018
I want to slip into the spots of the moon
that you look at so fondly
on the nights that you are about to break.
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