AnushaDixit - Hello Poetry

my starving heart another turn of the stars never further from your arms

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Apr 11, 2019

Apr 11, 2019 at 6:18 AM UTC

AnushaDixit

it calls to thee,

my starving heart another turn of the stars never further from your arms

3

And nothing will compare to that first love unrequited, the way your heart aches To reach out and touch her hair. It falls like molten gold in the light of a summer’s day in the Shakespeare garden, you’re shaking with anticipation. Laying in the grass, she leans over and applies your lipstick with her finger. Teenage adoration hangs in that lazy afternoon, the cusp of fall, the first of a thousand deaths.

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Oct 17, 2018

Oct 17, 2018 at 4:36 PM UTC

AnushaDixit

Liturgy for a Bouguereau

And nothing will compare to that first love unrequited, the way your heart aches To reach out and touch her hair. It falls like molten gold in the light of a summer’s day in the Shakespeare garden, you’re shaking with anticipation. Laying in the grass, she leans over and applies your lipstick with her finger. Teenage adoration hangs in that lazy afternoon, the cusp of fall, the first of a thousand deaths.

11

I can talk to trees. The secret, you see, is listening. Go ahead, try it sometime. Quiet your mind and focus on the rhythm of the world around you. When you look for it, the heartbeat of the earth is very easy to hear. Press your palms against the bark and focus on the way the wind flows over and around everything, focus on the way the grass and flowers push up to reach the sun, focus on the way the tree breathes in the air around it. I can see the tree's memories of weather and growth; the stillness reflects my own. If the tranquility was a color, it would be the flush of a cheek coming in from the cold; if it was a sound, it would be the lazy hum of a bee in summer; it if was a scent, it would be sweet, like springtime flowers.

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AnushaDixit

Oct 15, 2018

Oct 15, 2018 at 7:45 AM UTC

evie-marie

forest born

I can talk to trees. The secret, you see, is listening. Go ahead, try it sometime. Quiet your mind and focus on the rhythm of the world around you. When you look for it, the heartbeat of the earth is very easy to hear. Press your palms against the bark and focus on the way the wind flows over and around everything, focus on the way the grass and flowers push up to reach the sun, focus on the way the tree breathes in the air around it. I can see the tree's memories of weather and growth; the stillness reflects my own. If the tranquility was a color, it would be the flush of a cheek coming in from the cold; if it was a sound, it would be the lazy hum of a bee in summer; it if was a scent, it would be sweet, like springtime flowers.

11

light scatters—my rain-spattered windshield, dark roads below darker skies praying our problems might align that we may patch the cracks in our lives I saw you in the moonlight, caustic smile caught by 2am drives I knew you would be the telephone pole with which my car collides

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Oct 2, 2018

Oct 2, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC

AnushaDixit

full moon vol. 1

light scatters—my rain-spattered windshield, dark roads below darker skies praying our problems might align that we may patch the cracks in our lives I saw you in the moonlight, caustic smile caught by 2am drives I knew you would be the telephone pole with which my car collides

8

tasting god from my fingertips// to this matchstick (every time a part of me breaks, my flesh bursting forth clear and pure and seraphic, i kneel between the pews) /you lead me drunk// off the rooftop, the night we first kissed. i’m in a dull, grey cube, wincing at fluorescent terrors look down and i’m naked, veins peeling open/ /Will you come back, if i show you how much i feel it? it couldn't hurt— i couldn't hurt any more than this/ my friends haven't known spirituality past a bag/ pushed through through your truck’s open window/ passed a bar passing hands like a love note limp joints burning our fingertips// your hands, my throat open your nose, open your eyes to the world watch the clouds racing through the sky and in this moment// everything is perfect heaven's light falling upon our faces

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Sep 21, 2018

Sep 21, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC

AnushaDixit

hypodermia

tasting god from my fingertips// to this matchstick (every time a part of me breaks, my flesh bursting forth clear and pure and seraphic, i kneel between the pews) /you lead me drunk// off the rooftop, the night we first kissed. i’m in a dull, grey cube, wincing at fluorescent terrors look down and i’m naked, veins peeling open/ /Will you come back, if i show you how much i feel it? it couldn't hurt— i couldn't hurt any more than this/ my friends haven't known spirituality past a bag/ pushed through through your truck’s open window/ passed a bar passing hands like a love note limp joints burning our fingertips// your hands, my throat open your nose, open your eyes to the world watch the clouds racing through the sky and in this moment// everything is perfect heaven's light falling upon our faces

19

today my sadness took me driving past empty fields, beneath a pinkish sky pondering an emptiness that can't be filled despite how hard I'll try it leaves me asking why weeping over the beauty, (a bed of gold beneath cotton candy) so sweet it makes me sick, saccharine leave me nauseous, fill my heart with spit.

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Sep 3, 2018

Sep 3, 2018 at 11:29 PM UTC

AnushaDixit

always wanting for something

today my sadness took me driving past empty fields, beneath a pinkish sky pondering an emptiness that can't be filled despite how hard I'll try it leaves me asking why weeping over the beauty, (a bed of gold beneath cotton candy) so sweet it makes me sick, saccharine leave me nauseous, fill my heart with spit.

10

You are: a pile of spent lighters sunrays through smoke a searing bath, which feels like an embrace we will meet at the threshold of water and oil. we will meet at the brink of night and day.

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Jun 9, 2018

Jun 9, 2018 at 7:12 PM UTC

AnushaDixit

bruja

You are: a pile of spent lighters sunrays through smoke a searing bath, which feels like an embrace we will meet at the threshold of water and oil. we will meet at the brink of night and day.

9

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE The meds stave off the spiraling thoughts: Void, this part of me, (that languid fluidity) of “I will die by my own hand”— if not today, someday. But also the intensity, that fetid lustre of that which glimmers ever brighter because it will soon be lost... I feel its absence intuitively, like the way I know I’ve forgotten my keys My heart managed to grow around That fester, but now, I’m left a cavity— I hope life may flood this atrophy. If not today, someday.

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Jun 8, 2018

Jun 8, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC

AnushaDixit

you turn up the radio, crestfallen

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE The meds stave off the spiraling thoughts: Void, this part of me, (that languid fluidity) of “I will die by my own hand”— if not today, someday. But also the intensity, that fetid lustre of that which glimmers ever brighter because it will soon be lost... I feel its absence intuitively, like the way I know I’ve forgotten my keys My heart managed to grow around That fester, but now, I’m left a cavity— I hope life may flood this atrophy. If not today, someday.

15

It's late. /awake unbroken Moebius, (of "look what you did) "look what you said") hated)hated)hated) i remember carrying on like nothing was wrong with me. they wouldn't meet my eyes./ I am being carried away— to that terrible world of my thoughts , alone; if i can survive this circumspection,/evade reaching tendrils I may fade into black—

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May 28, 2018

May 28, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC

AnushaDixit

Nightvisions

It's late. /awake unbroken Moebius, (of "look what you did) "look what you said") hated)hated)hated) i remember carrying on like nothing was wrong with me. they wouldn't meet my eyes./ I am being carried away— to that terrible world of my thoughts , alone; if i can survive this circumspection,/evade reaching tendrils I may fade into black—

16

dawn breaks, marking another passing day. awake, you will stay ‘till the trapping dark another night of lonely avoidance; you're perpetually under the influence. you remember less and less... .

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May 27, 2018

May 27, 2018 at 11:23 PM UTC

AnushaDixit

umber : longing

dawn breaks, marking another passing day. awake, you will stay ‘till the trapping dark another night of lonely avoidance; you're perpetually under the influence. you remember less and less... .

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