Unseeable Identities

you are that unseeable identity, that

if I could touch you, I’d have to believe

that the stars have convulsed my destiny,

into a deep dense breath that passed

through your lips the last, which if I

could, I would store in my thought and

cling to you, stopping in your tracks,


but never did I know that I am helpless

and you were as well, and the story did end

the way it started, in anonymity of self,

by the destructive divulge, that dearth of

the flower of empathy that never sprouted,


its seed lost, smashed under the wheels

of your car, and your words did it all,

they hit my face with a blunt force and

I do not bleed, I am just left with shapes

of your anger, painful to sweetening while

the tears sting them with my obsession

over what was there, so trivial once,


now buried in mounds where a cactus grows up

surrounded by hills, it, you, everyone is still

alone and I am alone cherishing droplets

of blood that sprout out of my palms as

I longed to touch your identity and did,


still left without knowing what is that

treacherous triviality which made it so

that I ache to hear you in the dark so

that you can pull me to where you are

and make me a cup of tea and we talk

throughout the day, through the night

sitting on jute mattresses, I yearn to

hear you tell your tale and I hold your hand

as you guide me back to this time, your time

long gone, your name scratched by nameless

bystanders who still wait to spit once again

where there your bones lay dead, and I sing

a song of solitary sentence that not only

ceases the breath, but also erases a life

and a fate, and I sing, to continue, I sing


© Anmol Arora 2014

Image source: Painting © Arnaud Demol

I appreciate constructive criticism.


23 thoughts on “Unseeable Identities

  1. The wistfulness here is so powerful that it transports the reader into the poem…to a place where everything else is suspended in the shadow of the beauty of these words.


  2. quite moving…i feel the grit a bit…the seed of empathy crushed under the wheels of the car, you palms bleeding to touch….there is an intensity of emotion in this….


  3. You really have given a vivid picture of the ‘you’ addressed in this poem. You have made the character live and breathe. Nicely penned!


  4. The sadness and desolation are strong & leaves me helpless like a bystander ~

    I am left with tragic imagery of singing a song of solitary sentence ~ Thanks for sharing HA ~ Happy weekend ~


  5. There is this theme in your last couple of poems that is tinged with pain, with bleeding and you are able to evoke such an emotional response from your reader. This is quite powerful read aloud.


  6. magicalmysticalteacher says:

    “I yearn to hear you tell your tale”—this is the mark of a writer at work! Everyone wants to tell his or her story, but who will listen?


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