Unlearning

I'm unlearning,
As the chapters of life go by

I'm unlearning
to remain my old self
my being is under the time's chisel
carving out mercilessly
someone I hardly know.

I'm unlearning
not to bottle those screaming fiends in my head
and pour them out.

I'm unlearning
how to feel, connect, empathise, express
how not to suppress
the tears that roll and wash away
a part of the pain.

I'm unlearning
how those raw, gaping
invisible wounds sealed
or how to let them heal.

I'm unlearning
to pay heed
to respond
to not laugh away, to revolt
to the things that bother
like daggers that cut through.

I'm unlearning
to listen to myself
Or the self has unlearned
to talk
amidst the constant humming
of reality and facts
the way of dreams is blocked.

I'm unlearning
to think, to dream
my eyes do gaze at the distant sky
but blankly, lost.

I'm unlearning
to find answers
because who needs them anyway?
I'm unlearning
not to give up,
because the only way I see,
is the way through -
through time,
through this thorny rough patch
and it's better to go numb.

I'm unlearning
to believe
in prayers, miracles, fairy tales,
silver linings,
new beginnings
and so much more.

I'm unlearning
how engaging with life felt
confined here,
bound by chains of hopelessness,
that I forged along with time.

I'm unlearning,
to the extent of near emptiness
but with a tiny sustaining flicker of hope -
which I can hardly fathom in words.

For the vacuum might house those millions of clouds of dust and stars again.