I am not your perfect lover. I am lumpy, stained and poisonous. I'm blaming myself for feeling like you're falling for me every day and make me feel alive. But I feel unwanted.
I annoy you, I make false promises. I look up to others and try to compare you, even know there is no comparison to others, Knowing that you are still my pretty girl. Knowing that you are my charm, my pleasure. Knowing that you are always beside me, And Yet I took advantage of your humble heart and generous love.
I feel lucky to have you, and worst I hate to trouble you. I know I'm lost and you're my tracker. I know I'm damaged and you're my bandage upon it. Even now that you are the one who seals my soul and locks it in a safe place so that no one can harm it.
You've known my dark side and turned it to bright. You've Accepted my flows, my routine, my selfies love. You offered me your safe side, Your arms to cry, Your hands to hold, Your presence to spark.
But I have no golden soul like yours, maybe I have lost mine long ago. Maybe you put a soul on a dead one.
And I know that you have desires. I know it's me. But I haven't. Or maybe yes, is it you??
Some days I'm just a wayfarer like the barefoot waves that never recede back to the shores, as if some mariner drowned whole boat from Coleridge's ancient poesy leaving behind an incomplete story. My mind is the blank page of an open sky, where I pour words without being judged of its faded glory.
Some days I'm not just a human, but a free versed poetry etched on the walls of Cedar trees, shedding aureate leaves one by one each passing month, maybe one day I'll leave behind a species of my own existence till then I'll aim to embed life inside each passing season.
Some days I'm not just a shadow, but a morning sun that you fail to see rising and radiating at a chilly winter dawn, yet you sneer how I hold up the world with luminosity. Some days I'm a caramel butterfly in front of your vision far away from your hands, or an unfinished and unnamed painting that Gogh never made, maybe I couldn't relate to any.
Some days I may not be what I look, maybe I'm a vagabond seeking company in solitude, but I do become the back of the womb bearer of my flesh and I do become the smile of a man who plucks his endeavour to bloom my harvest. Oh! I forgot he only exists in sylvan frames and oscillating beats, but I do shield the pellucid space he exists within from the dust that tries to settle in. ~Purva
#place sorry :) This poem refers to me, my mom and my dad.
It's too high in here, tuck celebrations under the carpet, putting off life to live delayed. It's a whirlpool of rage, itching inside my bones, willing to be seen, To be stood one among many, And still be left on my own.
You held me so tight, In love, that denied me my sleep, You caught my air, I can't breath in anymore. Let me fly with phenomenal absurdity, For i shall learn on my own, for i ain't beautifully trapped, in slippery navels, curvy feasts to the demonic exploitation. I ain't enough to fit, Your standards, My reputation gonna be more Than enough, magnificently fierce, In the glory, I inherit as a warrior. I wear my pride , born out of transcended royalty.
Your smeared gaze, hazy promises, flavoured sweetness, trap of prey, adorned verses, manipulated praises. behind the fairytales, lurks my soul caged, where i struggle, To lend my voice to the voiceless, To acknowledge the fate , That wasn't destined but chosen and made.
Every step, Questioned my self, overthrown with every trough, Crowned crests, shooting stars hoarded in my womb, i burn down the weeds, the fireflies roam on my journey, Setting fire to the forest disdained.
I don't suit the type, I am one of a kind, The blood i shed, rises to the blood, that runs through every single veins. Feminine expression, fostered in masculinity, I owe to the boundless, The eternal , internal love, I bow to the unfinished.
Reaching this far, Afar the distance, Running, ruining, setting back with conventions, The world's equanimity, Isn't in the weight of muscles, Isn't in the breadth of currency, It lies in epitome of joy, Clarity, the vividness, We are unequally skilled, But the being is equally capable. It's through your eyes, The world becomes better.
Lit cigarettes, burn candles, March with banners ,demo proclaimers. The day ends, in chaos and pills, in cursing the bundle of choices, And yet this human form, Expanding form, Shrinking in your tagged biases, In the empowerment, You boast about, Then, Why am i constantly reminded of my identity?
I never thought of the time, where my emotions will cease my words, or I can't get it if, it is the emotions who are guilty, Just like the fulcrum who don't know, Is the going of right side is sinn, Or the left side is the sinner.
It was just that, //I didn't know if I am running away from love, or I am in desperate need of being loved//
I have controlled all the hemispheres under my cranial, the hypothalamus have no control on my conscious powers, but just like your footprints, your memories doesn't seem to fade away from my subconscious. With every blink of my eyes, It's the star on my lashes, which I named on you.
As much as I remember, I remember, I used to love nebulas, not just because I loved galaxies, not because it looked like the aura around me, When you used be present, but you both were the ones I knew, I couldn't similize into.
// Love always come with a pain// Alike the songs you wrote for me from the sky, alike the eyes you looked at me with while you were aspiring, Just like the harder beat my heart gives me, every once a circulation completes after pushing my arteries, beating my veins.
Is the knowledge of existence ceasing my presence Or is the aliveness that makes me guilty?
I am a mess , interwoven with red lights, My longer wavelengths makes me tangled with the symphony of agony, the air molecules shrink my subsistence, my hands freezing, my brain draining off, my body melting down and words remaining unsaid.
// always, a halt in me and the dysfunction of my tongue//