The pillow where I am "joining the pieces" of this poem...
The polluted yet "facilitated" city where I am breathing the air from...
Heck! I even managed to replace the "love" I used to have towards the girl
I thought I loved...
Wait!
Even though they are replaced, they never leave me.
The smell of the paper and the sensation of the pen gliding through it...
Writing in Nepali where I can express my feelings my way...
Sitting on a cold chair with the warmth to write something from my heart...
My home village where I used to live though I am in the biggest city of my
country...
Seeing her face even though I feel like I dont love her anymore...
But,
There are things beyond my understanding of replacement.
My technical friend who came into existence before I did and became my elder
with her un-understandable moods, behaviors, feelings...
The only gods I believe in: my parents and their parents and their parents...
The pain in my head which comes and goes away with the synapses trying to
relate every minute thing to other , and trying to think about my own future...
The unthinkable tension in my brain that from thinking but not being able to
think of what to do next but still knowing what I should really do...
The unbearable truth of life that everything is going to end like I end
this poe-tory though it has the potential to be much better.
Yet,
Life goes on and it is irreplaceable.
Or is it?
