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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.