Hatred

You know when it curbs me?
Of course, I feel it.
I feel it for you too.
You are no exception.
I am either.

I hate you sometimes.
And you know what,
It breeds when you are not around.
I don’t know what made you
Surmount your presence,
There around me,
Most of the times,
When it all started.

Your presence,
It has an unnoticeable existence,
Time and again,
That I cannot feel it differently,
As those movies and those stories extrapolate,
I don’t feel anything different,
It’s all just the same.

But I do feel something.
I feel a chamber around me,
That cuts me from the chaos of my life,
That lands me up in a small space,
Where I can be,
Without considering the rest of the world.
That space which is now an addiction.
And I will blame no one, but you.

I didn’t face the moments of discontent earlier.
Although, I won’t deny any prior encounters,
But this reason is new.
And it took me long to figure out,
One can never have those numbing points,
Discovered all by oneself,
Weakness is a better word,
But you are not my weakness.

You have always existed as my strength,
But, then why is this subsistence,
That is troubling me out.
What is the strange silence,
That covers me up.

Why I land myself in thinking,
What has happened and
What will now?
Why I am gaping and gazing still,
For some moments,
Till someone figures that out.

That sounds weird,
In fact, it is,
The thing is, it took me so long,
To get hold of that weirdness.
Was I the same?
Before few years,
Did I feel the same urge
To be in that small space of yours?

No,
I never knew,
That it ever existed,
Non-existence,
Was it better than what it is now?

Oh,
That dilemma curtails me all the time.
What could have happened
Or how could have been the world now?
Anyway, who am I, when,
Shakespeare himself suffered,
While choosing to be or not to be,
So did the Frost in another way,
Not seeing the other side of the woods,
Where he would have traveled if he had chosen differently.

Well, it could not be changed,
But the matter is all about hatred.
Yeah,
I won’t,
I can’t,
Cut it off, as it is inevitable.
I cannot stop hating you,
For coming and being a part of the journey,
That I was accustomed to traveling alone.

But you know,
I loved you for the same reason.
Irony.
Ain’t it worse when it works on extremities?
You know me enough,
I have always loved to play in extreme lines.
Adversities,
So, we will now.