Creeper

Photo : Bresson Thomas

Seeming like a strong-stemmed tree,

Creeper sometimes, I turn to be.

Looking for an emotional support,

Weak and meek, I long for comfort,

Comfort of being free from charges & duties,

And being far away from my own responsibilities.

There's a backbone I need to rest on,

And need the mattress to sleep & yawn.

Have been this way since long,

First, it ws Dad & Mom, to whom I've belonged,

Then it ws puberty,who made me a lover,

D feelings erupted which were under cover.

Need to be true & open-booked,

So that the special-allowed-one who looked,

In a stance, knew me from within.

And not see a puzzle which they'd just begun.

The unpredictable emotional highs & lows,

The negative which sometimes so abundantly flows.

Showing it all, keeping nothing concealed,

I need the one, to whom everything would be revealed.

Every strong lion needs to be cuddled,

With tender love, care & joy- bundled.

Many roam a free, with no belonging,

But, I am not that one; I need that bonding-

Of coming back home to be owned by someone,

In front of whom make-up & manipulations are not done.

Each day I walk graciously like a swan-

Calm, composed & needing no man.

Times elapse, and so does my strength,

Acting independent for such length

Unwraps my emotional inners;

Makes me weak & actively search for anchors.

Smiling, cheering, teasing, talking that I do,

I might just be deriving my solace from you,

Or might be making your attention my fodder

to regain the energy & grow up stronger

So that I re-enter the forests, wild & thick,

Giving the slightest-of-the-bond, a nick.

It sometimes feels like a parasite

Grows within me. With each bite,

It sucks its love, its nutrition,

neglecting, ignoring your condition.

How-so-ever guilty it feels moments later,

the evil does its job, & I'm its biggest hater.

Curbing it, Subliming it, I've tried

But, it is the soul to which it is tied.

Sensing host around, it multiplies in power

Flourishes, glees, and rejoices in pamper.

But, it has to leave to another land,

Because relying on it, you can't.

It has nothing to give, nothing so good,

It is nothing but a hollow log of wood.

It might just be a commensal, that I am,

Or just another healthy inter-dependent. Damn.

Pessimism takes its toll on me,

Making me sometimes what I be,

See, I’ve grown to my senses again,

Yes, the energies completed its regain.

Cold exteriors I’ve adorned,

And, I walk out, as the King, re-throned.