Intensity

Sometimes letters are too intense-

That you abruptly close the book.

May be it's only me…

May be it's a pattern of behaviour,

When emotions seem intense

You try to shut it off…

Pain, joy, mystery, and many more;

Afraid again, of listing those-

Afraid of going off-guard.

It has amazed me,

Though when I was on the verge of insanity,

That how the painful, fiery moments

Are ignored and shielded from you,

Just to get the flashes of those,

Which drive you mad-

When you least expect.

The memories, you never thought to exist-

Let you walk on the thin string-

Of sanity, and you just walk out of the moment,

Aimlessly to the wilderness-

Asking solace from nature…

Who never questions, never judges-

But embrace the 'you' as you are…

The flashes of those memory are painful,

Much more painful than

The moment lived itself!

And you shudder at a random voice,

A gentle pat even...

You overcome it, in your dark silence-

Sometimes weeping in closets,

And through the dark rainy nights…

And open the book again,

Continue the read of intensities.

I'm not strong, nor am I brave-

But determined that with all my weakness,

I live this life on my terms.

I seem like iron, I'm not-

It's just an illusion-

That stays, as you never dared-

 To touch!