Untied Poem by Pinaki Dewan

I was but a poem to them. Silent, immobile. The one behind the trees would whisper me. The one hovering about the house would write against me. And night after night, I would hear a madman screaming my music that was torn from the sanest of my nerves. I couldn't understand my purpose so I let out groans like mornings covered in your stench. I stabbed the bed with my shattered dreams. And once again, you came by to see me. Did you think I was paralyzed? You smiled like a Sidhe regally scudding past the hills of my sorrow into a land of lakes and sunshine; I couldn't bear the sight of you. But I wanted you. So I let you tell me why you thought the world was beautiful, and why we ought to live more. All the while, cursing myself. And while the walls gained in strength, the air faltered. And we suffocated to death. You left. I couldn't move anymore. And my poems fluttered like ashes that couldn't give birth to a phoenix.