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Aditi Jul 2014
she is tired of crying for help into a void;
now between the sighs behind her commas & full-stops,
she communicates through her SILENT fingers
and as long as her pen bleeds on a blank paper
the turmoil in her mind rests
the sunless day feels more brighter
the moonless night a bit less darker
deadly stares from strangers does not bother that much
as long as she gets to read and write,
she knows things will be just fine
  Jul 2014 Aditi
david jm
I can recognize the symbols now,
A God complex is simple thought.
A happy night.
A Saturday.
We're number three from Mother Sun.

Sister Nature is my father,
Brother Earth in animus.
Out of line,
Just out of spite.
A blackout can't account for this.

Taping up the horse's mouth,
Reality is not relieving.
If this was real
I wouldn't have to hold on like it's leaving.

Awoke but never fell asleep,
The endless sleep has found a stop.
I can be your cellophane,
If you'll be my Salem's Lot.


Avoid the windows,
Faith is burning.
Too alive,
And too unnerving.
the circles I live in.
Aditi Jul 2014
I love him
And he loves me
This is not where the story begins
but where it ends
And it's killig me
It's really killing me
That how even with all the time we bought
forever did not last as long as we thought

All i want to do
is curl around him
get lost in him
breathe him
in and out
feel my taste
on his lips
cling to him
and just stay like that
infinitely
with him, more felt better
a bit more closer
with him, more always felt less
and i could not help
but crave for more and more

8PM :
" I'm sad 'cause she will never love him the way you do "
Yes, she won't. No one will

Does she know
that dawn is your favorite time of day
how it embarks a new beginning
and *how both light and dark
exist together
complementing each other's beauty
just like..you and me


does she know
that you wake up in the middle of night
gasping for air
you had dreamt of a giant hole
swallowing all that you loved
it's a childhood fear
you could never get over
it might not make sense to the reader
but it.. he makes perfect sense to me


Does she know
that you miss your grandad
and how it kills you
that you share your birthdate
with his

Does she know that wherever you went
you never felt belonged
so you escaped and found your peace
in nature..that's how you feel healed

does she know
that she haunts you every night
till i came around and loved him enough
for both of us

Would she care
to write a poem about you
an hour before exam

i know she soes not
i know she would not
And i could have said this and many more
but all my lips muttered was
"She'll love you in ways i never did"
No, she won't. She does not even know you.

Yesterday 2pm
you quoted some author
"I wonder how many of us
don't get the the person we want
but end up with the one we are supposed to be"
i nodded
and ran away crying
'cause deep down
i thought you're the one i was supposed to be with
that you and I were meant to be"

02pm :
he told her how he felt
i don't know how he did not hear my bones crack
and my insides burn out
and the blood in my veins evaporate
or maybe he did not care?
.
.
.
.
.
.
time slowed down
nothing mattered
.
.
.
mobile beeps.
your message
she needs time
.
.
.
.I asked you how much time she needs
(how much moments before i lose you? the guy who always there whenever i pictured myself in future will become nothing but a memory)
you said point?I told her i am not moving on. She has a lifetime to decide. And if afterlife exists then even that.
.
.
.
.
everything blacked out
i could feel my empty heart being forced to beat.
.
.
.
i don't know how to continue this
i just had to write this because i no longer wanted these feelings inside of me
endangering the life they possess.
.
.
(looks back at the beginning)
I love him,
he loved me
but the story ended
on a tragic
note
because
I'm a Hindu
And he's a Muslim
I'll edit it, there's more to add and it's evident i was not thinking properly but..yeah
i love you i love you i love you but it's not enough, i am sorry for complicating our beautiful friendship by bringing love into it. I'm sorry.

WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ME LOVING YOU? HIM LOVING ME? AND YOU LOVING HER?
tell me. I need some answers, God. There is only so much i could take. This is the first time i've been this honest in my poem. So please bear with me
  Jul 2014 Aditi
SG Holter
I move towards you,
But you evade.
Like a rainbow.

There is no you,
Just an idea.
A unicorn.

The slow flash of blue
On a touch screen
That indicates

There's nothing
More to scroll
To.
  Jul 2014 Aditi
unstable
you tore me away from reality
with simple sentences
and idiotic jokes

you made me forget
everything

I didn't know what to think

or what to do with myself.

I guess I just ended up becoming yours.

now you've broken
everything

you've broken everything and you expect me to pick up the pieces

I will
I can guarantee that

but I can't guarantee that I will find all of the pieces

some will be lost,

maybe even broken smaller.  

some will have been stolen,

by nightly visits or maybe
close relatives

and I know we might be able to get them back but

I don't want to scrape my hands picking up the glass that you broke

I don't want to work for something and go against people while you're sitting in your high chair waiting for some gratification

I don't want my blood all over your floor
when I know you're not even going to help

I don't want to feel
guilty
or vulnerable
when we talk

but I guess that's how it goes

because humans have needs that need to be fulfilled

no matter how hard it is for someone else to fulfil it for them.
I'm to blame
for having emotions
and caring too much about the little things.
  Jul 2014 Aditi
X
When I was a newborn, less than 4 days old, you bought as many stuffed toys as your car could fit and surrounded them around my crib, ignoring my grandmother who kept telling mom that newborns don't know how to look at objects.
I moved my eyes and looked at them.

When I was a toddler, you encouraged me to watch Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin and didn't want me to watch Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty because you "wanted your daughter to learn a lesson, not just waste time".

When I was 7 you took me everywhere with you and didn't mind me listening to your friends' political arguments. On our way home though you always told me "Don't grow up to be like them.  Don't let people lead you."
And I didn't. I pushed a girl because she wanted to be the group leader in our science project.

When I was 11 you started discussing books by Stephen Covey and made me listen to Zig Ziglar cassettes. "Don't blindly follow the crowd," you said. "Always raise your neck and look around. If you don't like where they're going, take another road."
And I did. Girls my age were giggling about boys and bras while my eyes were wide open and excited about all the facts I read from my science textbook.

When I got to middle school and got my eating disorder, I refused to eat the apple in algebra class so that I could take my quiz, and didn't mind my teacher calling you to pick me up for my "resistance".
I got in the car waiting for you to pat my back and tell me I did well for refusing to give in to her ultimatum. I waited for you to tell me that I didn't need help anyways. But the drive back home was silent.

When I was 14 and went to my brother's school to beat up the kid bullying him, you called. I thought you called to give me a pep talk, or give me some tips on how to break his nose. All you said was "stay in the car. Leave the beating for the boys". I came back home confused.

When I was 17 and told you about my goals, you said "When you're young, you have unrealistic dreams. You feel like flying from your positive energy and like you have the whole world in the palm of your hand. But you grow up and realize that you need to be realistic."
I opened my mouth but closed it right after remembering you telling me "Think before you speak. If the outcome of what you'll say is useful, say it. If it'll hurt people, don't." I don't think it would've been useful. What use would it be to scream in your face about how that 'unrealistic dream' was the only goal I had, the only distraction from suicide. What use would it be to tell you that I don't remember the last time I felt like I was about to burst from the positive energy that I had?

You taught me how to be different. You taught me to love math and science. You taught me to be my own person and not let people decide what I should do in my life. But what you forgot to do is teach me how to feel okay. You didn't teach me how to reply to people who tell me that I watch too many American shows and that I let go of our traditions because of my opinion on marriage. You didn't teach me how to not feel lonely as hell when it's 3 am and I'm spewing out everything I binged and wiping my tears away while my throat bleeds and the music is playing to cover up the sound of me choking on the last words I screamed at myself and the gasps of relief when I purge out all my feelings and lay on the floor feeling numb. You didn't teach me how to pretend to blend in when the girls my age would take boys' phone numbers and I'd ask them questions like "but how are you guys together now? You don't know each other's personalities. You only just met." You taught me how to be smart, educated Belle and rebellious, going-by-her-own-rules Jasmine..

Daddy, you taught me how to be my own person in a place where you're supposed to be everyone else's clone, and I am forever grateful.. But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish you had taught me how to pretend to be like Aurora or Snow White.
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