Aditi

Aditi May 2017

The infinite gap between I don't want to live and I want to die and how sometimes they can be covered in a flicker of your eyes.

The infinite gap between who you are and who time wants you to be and how a whole life can be covered trying to find a balance between these two.

The infinite gap between where you're and where your heart lies and how sometimes the hollow heart beats remind you you're better off without your heart trying to break through the ribs that enclose it, for its own safety.

The infinite gap between your lips and the name you want to chant like some unheard prayer.

The infinite gap between the fingers on your hands and how they're used to holding air in an attempt to fill the spaces where his hair you held.

The infinite lapse between the first step you take towards him and the next.

The infinite hesitation between feeling too much and never acting on it.

The infinite times I watch my palm open and close reaching out and running away from you.

The infinite gap between I love you and let's be together.

In these infinite gaps, somewhere, we both are lost

Aditi May 2017

Untitled

I felt the wind whisper to me, as my mother's tears fell on the earth, unobserved
I heard it say that the clouds are sad too of course, that's why they cry as they could form no words.

I felt the ruin beneath my foot, trying to reach out to me,
I ran my hand along what was left of the monuments and felt their abandonment try to console me,
They said they were beautiful once, but now they stand there, majestically, for they witnessed pain and survived through it when most could not.
There's art in resilience.

I felt the echo of the words, my father once said to me, today, again
"you take care of yourself and do what makes you happy and run if you have to, away from my miseries" I remember having my knee bone crack under the implications of the emotions he left hanging in the air and have them choke me. My heart has been in my throat ever since. No emotion could ever overshadow it. Like a broken deck, I keep hearing the same thing again and again. I'm sorry I could not fix it. I'm sorry for adding more woes to your miseries.

I felt the bitter resignation of the words crossed with black ink, no longer wanted by the poet that carved them. I can still feel them laughing maniacally, talking about their uselessness. I can get the disappointment an arrow feels when it misses the mark. They say there will be a judgment passed on all of us. But why did God give up on me the moment I was born? Why does every church I have ever been to seem to abandon me when I need it most

I felt the sun drain away my energy as I held my sickly brother in my arms, I felt it shrink away in shame because it was trying to **** his illness away instead. I felt things fail one by one as I sat on my kneees there praying. with my knees bruised and my knuckles gone ******, I stood up and decided no one was coming. And there were other ways to harm myself while still healing, find help with no feet approaching. I decided to write honest words, and have them cut my skin brutally with their tenderness.

I don't know when my words became my redemption, I don't know when they became my sin.

Aditi May 2017

Sun, stars and the moon.

Collapsing under its own gravity,
The sun dies a little every day.
Every morning is a reminder,
Of its resilience,
Every night a tale of its loss.

A star shines brightest,
The more closer to death it gets,
Every constellation is a reminder,
that art wears melancholy the best.

Leaning in for a kiss,
The moon creates ripples in the sea's heart
Always reaching out, but never touching,
Every full moon is a reminder,
That it's possible to find contentment
While still longing.

Aditi Apr 2017

What have I done

A million shade of hues,
Blending into one another,
Then why did I decide,
That these various shades of blue
Are what i look good in.

A hundred feelings I could have felt
But I decided to dwell deeply in
This self loathing
When did this sadness take me over,
Its grip so tight that
It's not even poetic anymore

All these words I could have used,
All these topics I could have penned,
But why does everything I write,
Seems to speak words,
That only I can hear-
Save me, save me, pls save me from myself.

A Hundred jewellery
To adorn
Then why did I decide to take
the blade in my hands
And carve these rubies out,
What a terrible contrast
Against my pale skin!

A hundred people
I could have talked to,
A dozen whom I call my friends
Then why is it that at 3pm
I'm scrolling down my tl,
Longing for a connection
I'm not sure exists.

A hundred cemeteries,
For all these ghosts to live in,
And yet they decide to haunt me instead
And why is it that when they're gone,
I almost crave their company?

What have I done to myself?

Aditi Apr 2017

A note to myself.

I might be sad but I'll never let that become a vulnerability that some one else might exploit.
I might be sad but I'll never expect anyone else to make me feel better about myself.
I might be sad and not do anything to conceal it but I'll never let that sadness become me or my most prominent feature.
I might be sad but I'll never use a person as a replacement for the happiness I could never feel.

I might be in love but I'll never expect that love to heal the wounds that run too deep.
I might be in love but I'll (not still there but I'm trying to be) never make it a point around which my universe balances.
I might be in love, but I'll never let it be the prime focus of all my passions.
I might be in love but I'll never forget how to love myself in the process.

I might be standing too close to the edge but I'll never jump
I might be tempted to the shiny blades but I'll never carve the first cut
I might be inherently attracted to lonely, dark roads but I'll never shy away from the light
I might be waiting to be found at the moment, but I'm no longer looking at you to map my steps in case I want to find my way back.

I might have never been your priority but really how can I have let it bother me when I was never my own?

I might want you to stay but I'm not bending out of shape to make spaces for you,
I might love you but really for how long can love be used as an excuse to tolerate disrespect
I might want you to remain happy but I'm no longer trading my happiness with the devil to catch your smile
I might want to give you my all, but I would not.

I might be sad now but that does not mean I'll never be happy

Aditi Apr 2017

Late night musings

When was the last time something reminded you of me and other questions i ask myself till sleep decides to leave me. And then in a circle my thoughts run.

1. Are we holding hands because we are in love or is it because my hands are used to holding on to yours? Is it because the tenderness of the moment warms me to the core or is it just because my hand is no longer familiar with what it was like to be held by emptiness?

2. I don't know if it's in my head or if it is just a phase of love? Maybe if it's a phase, it will be where after days of anticipation and waging war, we get to meet and I start waving my hands cheerily at you and you wave yours back, just to have you walk past me. Like how in a dream every thing remains unfamiliar till our eyes focus on something we know. Maybe I'm all those moments before you find your clarity.

3. It's sad how the prolonged absence of something makes us incapable of enjoying it sometimes. I've got so used to not having your undivided attention that on the rare moments that I do have your eyes accidentally meet mine, I fluster and stutter. I used to think it was the slight nervousness that love causes except it does not feel like love at all.

4. We made a promise that we won't hesitate to ask for help if any one of us needs it. Then why is it that lately I can't get myself to ask anything of you? Maybe, maybe it's because once I get something I want, I rarely ever know what to do with it? And I don't want the same to happen to you. Or maybe it's because you can't ask what broke you to fix you back. If they could fix you, they would not have broken you in the first place.

5. I have always been more darkness and need than I was ever light and love and I thought you knew that about me. I thought you knew that despite all my limitations, my love for you knew no limits. I loved you like any moment an apocalyptic thunderstorm would strike us and that would be the end of this opportunity to feel. Then why is it now that I want to curl into myself? Why does being near you makes me feel like I'm corrupting you? Why is it that I shrink away from your touch choosing the shelter numbness has given me, graciously

6. There's a point before the storm wrecks you where you can feel it stirring already. A point where you realise you're abandoned even before the bed sheet goes cold.

Pls leave me alone and walk away. Then I can mourn you properly

Aditi Apr 2017

All these

All these pieces and not enough space to hold them all
All these guilts and no one to confess them to
All these words and no poet around to marvel
All these potentials and no motivation to fulfill them.

All these sadness and not enough time to carve them into art
All these emptiness and this 5-9 job
All these numbness and this full blown party
All these familiar faces and not a single friend.

All these laughter and no echo of happiness from within
All these glorification and anticlimatic reality
All these walls and no windows and door to get in
All these things to hold on to and there's your memories.

All these raining and you're still caught up in a draught,
All these homes, and you'd rather lay on the road
All these pretty things, and the raw, unadulterated you
All these lingering silences, and no peace.

All these blooms and the graveyards' laments,
All these flutters of heart and the outrageous mess it makes.