Through the Tips of My Fingers

Through the tips of my fingers,
I let the past slip.
The grass is still green and wild,
The honey still drips.

Fog and mist have conflated,
To reveal a painting of deafness and depth.
Step into the scene they paint,
And prepare to be speechless.

To revel in the beauty of the present is hard,
When you have no sense of what lies in the past.
Not every disease is curable.
Some lost recollections are irretrievable.

To have no memory of where you belong,
Who you are,
Is far more terrifying
Than to be lost in the dark.

For where the darkness is tangible,
The light will be so too.
But the emptiness of a human brain,
Is too agonizing to undo.

A moment ago I remembered,
The sound of her voice,
The colour of her lips.

But as the nerves electrify inside of me,
The honey drips,
And I let her memory slip.

-Megha Bhartiya💜

©️Megha Bhartiya, inksoakedsoul.wordpress.com


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-Megha 💜

20 thoughts on “Through the Tips of My Fingers

  1. You had me from the very first line to the last word. I got goosebumps. Everything about this is beautiful, whether it’s the scene you painted though this piece of work, the words, the theme. Amazing 🖤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’m getting two images from this poems,
    One of a young woman dressed in white clothes on a grass field trying to forget her past,

    And of an old Woman in a hospital trying to remember her past

    Liked by 1 person

  3. wow..what a write this is! I wish I could do more than a wow :)
    For where the darkness is tangible,
    The light will be so too.
    But the emptiness of a human brain,
    Is too agonizing to undo.

    Brilliant lines!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. This is mesmerizing. I read it several times, imagining a woman holding a spoonful of honey, and feeling an empty eternity before it finally drips and she gives up on trying to remember. Beautiful imagery.

    Liked by 1 person

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