"Economizing Tenderness"

I lived through your absence when living itself was a ventilated dying lung 

I could have just run, exhausted myself 

But no I had to wait, 

I wanted to run with you 

So we could just all run together to the 

far end of the world 

where life remains nothing but 

a dreamlike projection 

of the purest form of soggy leaves 

You didn't see me in those dead, 

hanging hours like pale green 

mildewed walls 

As I found my state mired by waiting distasteful as sin 

That no sin I did was bigger than that 

I would have told all those things to you

If life hasn't been so cruel 

If you had something more within you 

than eyes  

If I wouldn't have crossed myself with shackles right down 

to my blood gushing heart 

It hurts me now

My helplessness hurts me bitterly 

What do I do with my rage, in a world ravaged by shell-shocked humans?

What do I do with my rage, in a world

having guns instead of hands,

that carry the death of innocence 

on their shoulders like 

a fucking ice-cream? 

What do I do with my rage, 

in a world so cruel? 

I wonder sometimes 

rather I shout in my pillow 

Look at me now as I look for you 

with my breaths on hold 

That's the only purge I do on most days

How do I explain this 

poet's sensibility to him? 

How do I tell him that 

I can see beyond those empty eyes? 

How do I tell him that I am cursed 

to express the history 

of those that leave 

their children unnamed? 

Look at me now as I look for you 

with my soft sobbed murmur

In this quiet submission 

I marry only words and 

laugh so hysterical that my ribs break

for you to name it hysterectomy 

Ofcourse, you wanted something to name 

as a legacy of a history 

you cannot explain, didn't you?

Or, do you still hold me 

as I hold an invisible hand 

as a desperate desire to be held 

and silp quick in the exact same moment 

like a red herring from a foreign embrace, 

like water from stone cold eyelids?