Unmaking Me

Satish Verma

I want to shake them off, 
the weird thoughts, 
like a swarm of bees, 
buzzing, whining, aimed at nothing. 
Want to write me off? 

observe the hands of a watch, 
looks like they are not moving. 
Time stands still. 
Waits for me to move. 

An atavistic ache.Again I view the world. 
Everybody is making a sound without bending. 
With dreams dead, I step into emptiness, 
barefoot, to feel the earth. 

Not going to quit, 
free to kill my ghost, 
I move into sunlight.