I just wanted you to heal. Be better. Forget. Heal.
I picked up the phone.
Knew I should not have
But it was Sunday morning
The sun was out,
The tree outside my window dancing in the wind.
And Sundays like this have a way of getting into my head
So I gathered myself on the couch
The one by the window
And called you.
You received my call with a scream
So shrill so unexpected
dropped the phone with a quick fuck
sat down, picked up the phone, listened
I remember thinking
How do I make you stop?
My ears hurt
But I let your scream pierce through my heart
Let me feel you feeling your pain
Then you stopped
“Nihal” I whispered
I knew you were there
Heard your labored breath
Nina Simone in the background
I hang up and thought
Good! At least you have Nina.
I am letting you let the pain have you
Let the pain tear you apart at night
Walk with you during the day
You cannot let pain make a home in you.
Promise me, Nihal.
This is a sequel to Heal