Things that matter.

A poem, you ask?
I sit here and think, wondering what
we are,
when doors are shut
Tight and hard.

Alright, I will come with you for the trippy fight;
also, came with my freshly chewed skin,
All the prose and adjectives are here
We’ll keep them the way they have always been.


Let me give you a guilt trip with rich metaphors
Like the whispers you heard last night,
we’re beautifully demonic; we walk like angels.
A war against the world, you say? would you dare?

When next time you come to fight beside me
I’ll remember everything you tried to shatter,
But my question is , are you here because it matters
Or for the fame that comes later?

//Touch has a memory//

I have been pretty transparent, if you’re really looking.
On my skin, you could see the boy with hazel eyes
with softest curls and the way,
he is touching my skin just by looking,
You can feel the metaphors
running along my hair
to your fingers;
you can sense the memories
curling up your hand.
Will remind you of the last kiss
or I’ll fill your heart with clichés;
you always fall for it.

Let me tell you stories about disasters and disappointment running deep down under my wrist, in my veins;
If you touch me for a bit longer, you’ll be able to sense the thunders;
touches, devastating enough to burn down the entirety.
But there’s nothing scarier than skin that feels nothing at all.

If I tell you,
consent in love is a funny thing
between the flashback of millions of memories and disruptive silence
in your eyes, you’re lost, believe me.
Once you touch,
there are no more may l’s.

And what about the veins under my skin that still tremble
at slightest touch because there are memories buried underneath me.
You look for justifications on my wrist,
all the longer-than-usual touches,
I’m wearing under my sleeves.

I know you’d believe me crying myself to sleep and how miserable the year has been.

But,
would you believe me
If I tell you,
An unwanted touch can send chills down the man’s spine
when you try to pull him closer after every “no”?
There is always a ” be a man” ready to slip from your tongue.
Can you ever forgive yourself in the name of humanity,
in the crowds shouting for justice while you’re the 5/10 culprits;
for stealing a moment that was not yours; thinking a smile to be a consent or never asking for it?
You know there won’t be any going back for him.
If there was a slight voice of complain,
it’s always easy to be a victim than to take responsibilities.
Funny how you always get away when they’re the ones sulking in pain.

And what about when a man tells you he was molested, would you believe him or say, “must’ve been fun?”

Collaboration with Bharath

Let them be

This constant pressure someone feeling that they are entitled to talk to you daily can be draining ( and can break the bonds too). When going through things, the most creative people can also run out of words and the answer to every question can be nothing more than “okay”.

We keep checking on people , which is a good thing, indeed. But too much care can be toxic too. If everybody starts with “How are you today?” then what else can someone say other than ” I’m fine”.

On some days the best thing we can do for others is to just listen or just be there in silence or just give them the space. Because sometimes, the best thing we can do for others is not to do anything.

~ Let them be.

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.

Ephialtes

I often find myself with the ghosts after the whole world goes to sleep,
The world say those creatures are horrifying
but to my wonder I saw them weep.

It always seems like their darkness is my comfort even though they suck out my light,
My world sometimes seems dull and shallow do they have it bright?

They know the colour of my nightmares and all the words that drag me below,
How the world starts slipping out of my body
whenever I hold on and try to swallow.

Breath by breath I try to walk, not sure about the horizon or meadow,
I was told not to go too far as hell has nothing to offer, now I know.

~🧜‍♀

Hailstorm

Wolves are hollowing at the peak,
Birds going total freak.
Is this reality or a dream?
I can sense some subtle screams.

Intense, destructive and cold breeze,
Is this city on the verge to freeze?
I may sound off, i may sound mad,
But this clime is, really bad.

In a blink of eye,
Earth started to cry,
Increasing it’s load,
Sky started to explode.

I am forced to run as the rain begun,
Hail stones are no more fun.
Its hard to breathe under such intense shower,
Nature never fails to prove its power!

Whole place is covered in white pebbles,
Weather really is, on another level.
I never wanted to witness hailstorm,
Maybe its safe inside the dorm.

Pain is pain

Every time you’re hurt,
You keep coming,
Your heart,
is a heart,
Others have machines,
just running.

I’m sick of these guess games,
Haven’t you got any other to blame?
Please, stop these claims,
Your agony is a result of,
your own flames.

Kept pushing me,
Whenever I offered help.
Now, when you are drowning in sea,
You choose to Yelp?

I too, have a soul,
But you kept digging hole,
Stop roaming around,
comparing loss or gain.
Regardless of intensity,
pain is pain.