Ellipsis || Poetry ✓

20 May : half and half apocalypse

In this half-and-half apocalypse,
I Google the word "bored" in different languages, taste them one by one on my tongue,
And then swallow them whole because spitting is not allowed;
I lie on my back, alone on the double bed,
And try to make out voices in the continuous hypnotic swaying of the blades of the fan -
I remember Raghu calling this After Earth,
As we mourned our inability to go out and get coffee.
In this half-and-half apocalypse,
I charge my phone around thrice a day
And whine about my online quiz results that I had anyway cheated on,
As dying people continue to appear on the TV screen as numbers - insignificant, lifeless, listless numbers.
In this half-and-half apocalypse,
I read "I'm okay, wbu" messages (read : lies) off my phone screen,
And watch the blinking cursor, stare at my keyboard,
Not knowing which words will hold the warmth of real hands, real fingers,
Real heartbeats,
Or how to fill suffocating silences with the crisp cold letters read off of a...
After Earth.

// After Earth - there was a movie, do you remember?
There were a lot of movies, I remember.
I remember
Survivors wrote down memoirs,
Great tales of courage,
So
I take out my own pen and write

Regressions –
Null hypothesis : In this half-and-half apocalypse I am already dead.
Alternate hypothesis : In this half-and-half apocalypse, everyone's dead but me.