A burnt orange sky

Each step feels heavy; each step that I take away from you adds to the plethora of distress building up inside of me. I can feel the sharp edges of the pavement digging into the worn out soles of my shoes and it is hard, to not turn around, it is hard, to not to look at you for one last time but I know if I do just that, I’ll never be able to move, never be able to leave. Although I’m compelled to leave and the misery it brings with it is enough to halt my beating heart, I know that all I need to do is to close my eyes and reach out with my mind and that will be enough; it will be enough to eradicate the miles and miles of distance that stretch between you and me, between us. It will be enough to return me to that window seat, where I sat next to you, a cup of coffee in hand : fully content and complete despite the simplicity of the moment.

Every breath that I take is a proof of the endless days I have spent waiting for you, and somehow I found a weird satisfaction in that wait, I feel like it rejuvenates my soul, it gives purpose to my existence but I always smell a certain hesitancy, a certain doubt overwhelming your feelings and that is enough to break me because I have never been able to imagine what lies beyond your presence. Even though you are not there, I have felt your presence in every drop of rain, that touches my fragile body. It lingers over my skin for a second but then it fades away like it was never there, gone forever leaving me to yearn for that one chance of togetherness.

At times when I stretch my hand in front of me, I ย feel it being swallowed by the enveloping whiteness, slowly decaying into nothingness. I feel like I am being suffocated by this thick blanket of white and your presence seems to be nothing but a fading black silhouette against the endless white. Maybe it isn’t me who is trapped, maybe I’m not inside the fog , instead the fog seems to be inside me.

All I wish is for you to keep me alive within the chambers of your heart. I pray for a warm sunset, a burnt orange sky to drive this doubt away.

Picture Source :Jason Blackeye

Foggy

9 Replies to “A burnt orange sky”

      1. Bisma, you write wonderfully. And their isn’t any doubt to that, no matter what anyone says. I always prefer reading stream of consciousness than unnecessary eloquent description of mundane things. And you my dear, do that quite well.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Really this means a lot to me. I’m happy that you don’t think of my writings as a couple of hollow, meaningless words stringed together but can actually see the hidden thought, the hidden emotion behind what I write. To be honest, there is nothing that could bring me more satisfaction ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Reblogged this on Sketches By Nitesh and commented:
    I always prefer reading stream of consciousness than unnecessary eloquent description of mundane things. โ€œMaybe Iโ€™m not inside the fog , instead the fog seems to be inside me.*โ€
    In just one line, the essence of the entire post can be felt.
    Strength by words.

    Liked by 1 person

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