Emotional Abuse
You Are the Sun
And I, a lost asteroid
I am a lost planet,
Constantly revolving in your orbit.
The orbit of confusion.
My vision is blurred,
For gases of confusion are toxic.
When in senses,
I rummage through the remedy.
I google, “Do suns change their axis?”
But people on Google are ruthless.
The outright denial breaks my broken back.
Suns never change. Nor do their axis.
Again, they say change is the only constant.
This strengthens my hope.
Why wouldn’t you?
To this — they say — change is a mindful process.
Character traits are innate.
But I am way too stubborn.
Like your self-confidence.
And fixated on my orbit.
I believe you’ll change.
Though it’s like wishing,
Sun to stop emitting fire.
What fun it would be to have the sun without heat?
Even if it is silencing the world with indifferent cold.
You know — If you change — you lose the power.
So, you never will.
Then liberate me,
From your orbit.
Liberated yet attached.
Because I’ve learned rigidity from you.
Want to have ties and yet cut ties!
Google again intervenes.
That’s delirium, cognitive dissonance to be precise.
You have innumerable orbits,
Which clash and throw me out.
Stupid me, I get back in the orbit.
To be more confused than ever.
And wait for you to come one day,
And say, “It wasn’t unreal, what we had.”
“After all, we are a family,” you’d promise.
We don’t fake with each other.
Hope isn’t ready to give in.
Not now, not never.
Because Google also says,
The world rests on hope.
I see into your eyes, to find the trace of commitment.
Your sly eyes mirror loyalty and trust.
Though I am repairing myself.
Not lending my intuition to your intelligence.
Not letting you sunlight me.
