Alone at the Table

Alone at the Table

Written by Tanya Singh

 

Dearest,

 

We were like the rainbow in the afternoon sky, orange and only smoke,

And sadly, rainbows do not exist, /                            And I realise why the clouds were painted white and grey,

Every day is a trial and every day I am guilty,

I paint the blank page ivory and illusion, and throw some sighs for glow,

And our words, /                           Like tangerine shadow lamenting on our jokes,

I am choking on them, so thick these words seem,

I am the victim and I am the suspect, /                     I’ll be darned if they don’t hang us for others’ follies,

And when I join my hands together, /           When I stand unaccompanied,

I am not praying, /                                                           We become the posture of the lost,

“What are you doing?”, they ask,

“I am doing my time”, /                   And I knew the heavens were worse, with their monopoly ensnaring, and the dew on leaves was not rain, but one-fourth sweat, and three-fourth tears, visible and latent,

Even the pizza tastes bland when you sit alone at the lunch table, /          And I have seen the difference,

I am not an introvert but I have been living like one,

I am not an extrovert and I have been masquerading since long,

I am the victim and I am the suspect,

Every day is a trial and every day I am guilty.

 

Sincerely,

I cry alone in the bathroom.

 

– Originally published at Voices of Youth (http://www.voicesofyouth.org/en/posts/alone-at-the-table)

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