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    Ajinkya Pawar
    17 Aug 2009

    the heart feeds off
    the notion of you.
    its a parasite
    it pumps venomous thoughts into me.
    my pride
    chisels you off the heart.
    flake by dead flake
    i am reduced
    life less alive.

    the present cleaves
    the past bounds.

    pride can only pry off
    so much...
    the rotting remains,
    the imagined threads
    now keep us in a sickly embrace.

    tangled and apart.
    dark and in limbo.
    we, do not make a 'we'.

    a part of us buried
    slimy, unhappy
    its hands trying to grasp
    in two different directions.