Sometimes I wonder, what happens to the songs that are left unfinished.
Imagine a heart bleeding itself out and falling short of blood.
All the 'almost' stories.
I wonder what happens when musicians
go back to the half vomited lyrics,
hoping to accommodate a climax.
Is it like, throwing ice in hot water?
Do the words adjust themselves and merge
to form room temperature hook line.
Or is it a futile effort,
like mixing fresh fruit with stale platter,
hoping it wouldn't rot.
Sometimes I feel, i love how i write poems,
raw, unstructured, craftless..
Sometimes I fall out of love like I abandon
a poem, I put all my existence into.
Which is to say that i am less than enough.
Sometimes I feel like i am a song
that was left unfinished.
And in those moments,
I yearn for the final word,
the last full stop.
The bite that makes you realize that
you are finally full.
But it would be wrong to assume
that 'almosts' are deprived of intensity.
On days when I don't feel like a whole person,
I purposely begin poems,
knowing that I might never drop the mic.
I tell myself that my empty heart
still knows how to love,
that unfinished songs still have melody,
that half written poems still make sense
©sakshi1099
S