Wednesday, 15 April 2015

Loving someone without them loving you back
(and being okay with it)

Is a tiring game of disgrace, because every seen text
with no response hurts; every smile given to someone else
aches; every moment you could have had, had he looked
at you the same way pains; humiliation because you hate who
you have become; because you want to text him even when
there are no replies, because you can’t stop trying
even when there is no point; And then slowly it becomes
a game of shedding inhibitions, of sitting right in front of
him and admitting that he makes you weak; of breaking but
never being broken; of being able to laugh when it hurts;
of being fine with him not smiling back the way you
wish him to, just as long as he smiles; of talking about other
things, as long as you get to share stories;
it no longer hurts to not be loved back,
just as long as you can love.

Tuesday, 14 April 2015

I am going to write the worst poem today
And you will close your eyes and read it
Deep words deep words deep words
Meaningful blah blah blah constellations
But then what is life in the scheme of things
And who ever thought that sonder, shush…
Afterall, who decides? Hunger for what
In who by who? Fill the room with smoke
So that I can stare at just one lamp, it’s light
And shadow, their secret dance;
I wanted to kiss him tonight, have his teeth
Dig my skin; finally find an inspiration for
My poetic constipation; I think I can do
Even with a fart- a three sentence poem
But here I am inducing vomit
Just to feel fine again.