It is never that you see!

 Every time I talk to you, 

I shake my head vigorously, and say

"Oh it's not about that you see...

It's not even about that..."

It's still about asking you to care. 

It is still about wanting to be seen.

It is still about being loved, unconditionally! 

Trust me, I am at it.

I have not yet stopped trying to give up on that love that was never mine. 

I have not yet stopped trying to give up on finally making you hear me. 

I have not stopped trying to cajole myself to give up on dreams I was born with. 

Dreams are not real; trust me, I remind myself every day. 

Nowadays I keep dragging the three wheeler of "what one should do" 

through a dry riverbed. 

The terribly misbalanced hand pulled rickshaw on dry a riverbed, 

That's what I drag! 

That was where I was born; the perched riverbed of a summer afternoon.

That's where I have been digging forever for some water.  

My fingers bloodied, my throat dried, my body gave up again and again

But I remained at it. Blood, sweat, and tears. 

It was not a desert after all.. 

I could not leave in search of an oasis. 

The assurance of water was right there!

The water was not!

And it will never be...