Categories
poetry

A City of heartbreaks

My being is hanging out with the thought of being myself at almost all the times and the urge to be anything but me.Thought is an act of violence. The urge to be somethingbut me, is the violence against what I am. The urge  to be nowhere but near you.

Is it possible for a person to be envious of a place?

To be honest I’m tired of writing about you, tired of writing about writing about you. Whenever I am about to ditch the thought of writing, a desperate poem about how your city is covered in broken hearts, start screming in my lungs. Is your city drowning in broken things or running on it?

I hope the next time you cross a mart, it snows. I hope it snows to the extent that your cold city start shivering, I hope you get a taste of what you’re serving. For atleast 12 days I want the snow to stay there (beauty deceiving hearts), for 12 days are the maximum amount of time you’re capable of loving someone and your city is cruel for 12 months in a row.

Tonight, after reading this, when you’ll call me, I’ll miss 11 of them but pick 12th, for I know you won’t call after 12th. Even though, I promise myself to be better and be me, I lose myself to your city.
A city of tall buildings.
A city of cold hearts.
A city of you.

Categories
poetry

I’m dying poetry

In his Letters to Milena, Kafka wrote,
‘You are the knife I turn inside myself;
that is love. That, my dear, is love.’

And I can’t help but wonder
number of times I ate my own skin
to feel your touch on my lips.
And number of times I died,
trying to reason with unknown.
In search of words I travel
through my spine; your garden
in my lungs is dead. Butterflies
have turned into fireflies,
illuminating me while burning
my senses, I am alive you see.

There is a reason why I hate September,
we all have reasons, to reason with
unknown is a silent revolution, a war
with possessiveness. Like a failed
theory my eyes look for you
in patterns, for hints, so that
I can reason with my tied hands;
there are songs of lost touch in my heart.

All I am left with are questions.
I can’t come up with an explanation
for my fear of something that already
passed. Like the evening sky
there are too many colours, too many
shades of verses leaving my finger tips;
I paint my nails red when I miss you the most.

My skin sweat in how, why and where?
You ask me why no happy poems?
These, my dear, are barely poems.

Categories
poetry

Apocalypse

Silence knocks on my window everytime it snows; I have an ache every time I hear your name. This time, spring came with the bittersweet memories, my kitchen smells like your favourite street food and the aroma runs through my veins, urging me to run away .

We are oceans apart yet its heavy on my heart. This sweet scent is telling me
to run
and
find the way
back
to
you.

//They say time will heal the heart
but it hurts everywhere//

Like the apocalypse your memory is playing in my head, vivid imaginations peep into my soul. Convictions constantly trying to reason with the cause. Metaphors climb, chisel and breaking my vision, as I curl into my fears.

Categories
poetry

Mirrors

Mirror, mirror
on the wall.
I asked her about
the heart with a hole.

Empty eyes were
actually screaming,
scared of nightmares
and daydreaming.

Four hours
she didn’t speak,
A powerful soul,
within a body so weak.

Instead of healing,
she keep choosing pain,
Stuck in labyrinth
of loss and gain.

~Mermaid~

Categories
poetry

Caged

I was devastated
when he asked me to leave,
A proclamation,
really hard to believe.

After giving me the sky,
he cut off my wings,
I never thought,
things would be, just things.

Not that I am afraid
of being alone,
But can’t believe
a heart can be, just stone.

Of course we were different,
He came here, just to roam.
I got bewitched with magic,
Misunderstood him as home.

~Mermaid.

Categories
poetry

Fears

Walking through the empty streets,
Behind all the crumbling sheets,
Listening to my beasts,
Crying, on repeat.

I know every flower of ceiling,
Stumbling under the weight of feelings,
Tired of kneeling,
Waiting for arrival of healing.

My fan is moving,
My vision is disproving,
All the voices are fooling,
Only pain here, is blooming.

I forgot to turn off the light,
Everything seems quite,
At least,
I’m not alone in this fight,
All my fears are here,
By my right.

Categories
poetry

Shield

I learned his past
present
desires to fly,
The way he sounds
when his demons cry.

His scent,
voice,
fears,
Love, was divine.
I wanted to claim and
make him mine.

Under the moonlight,
on heart’s call,
I was ready to breakdown
my heart’s wall.

Everything was perfect
and fine,
until I came to know
he was dying to
call me his lifeline.

I witnessed a love,
nearly perfect.
My locality was
dancing under a special effect.

My soul was empty
and heart
full of doubt,
Over the rainfall
I ended up
choosing drought.

Pushed him away
was afraid of being healed,
Here I am,
Alone,
with my high shield.

Categories
poetry

Roads

I looked at him
while crying,
I knew
there was no use of trying.
You left and moved
towards the wood,
And I stood there,
like you said I should.
Every path I take is black,
I wonder if you ever
going to come back?
Whenever these roads
try to threaten me,
I wish upon him,
but never came he.
I know you closed every door
which led you my way,
Damn!
I still keep my hopes high
for another day.