Day 43: The You

There are days that are often harder to drag and then there are some that will talk to you about being forgetful once in a while even if it would seem impossible. Between the many binaries of life, we often find a space to make our own, our grey areas and white. Our blues and shades that in time but fade. The idea is simple; we write to a few not all, even if they find no reason for me to write.  We write to those even if they haven't given us a topic till date, because they are present none the less in my writings in my musings of the day. The rain grazes my window and the night reminds me of the quiet times we share from afar. Our table tops are empty because we choose to keep it clean, let me come back from time to time.

The "You"
There are musings of the night, there are givings of the day,
The are things that we seem to forget, and then there are some that stay,
The simplicity in an open door, the knocks that we hear like ever before,
The staircase falls and fills my home, leads me to you when the days are gone

The "you", is a friend I believe, the "you" could forever find space on my shelves,
The musings , the music , the paintings you draw, the "you" are in pictures that are well kept
Imagine the cold wind that numbs your hands, the remnants of the day are still found warm,
The "you" is the story I share about for the day, the "you" remains in places where I belong

My old friend reminds of of birthdays still, asks me if I still write to them,
If I remember the days that are all but gone, do I still find the time or do I need to pretend,
My forgetful mind but forgets so little, it holds stories it plays in constant rewind,
It find places to go, and people to meet, even if the stories are only in my mind

The "You" finds solace as the warmth on my cold winter day,
And hence I write to nobody and to none, but whoever is listening it is for you today.