Is it the feeling of rejection that I rejoice?
The feeling that has me trembling,
desperate to cry words of sorrow,
pages and pages of hand written ink,
the humiliation that I *****,
choking on cascading expectations.
Is it the feeling of pain that I cherish?
The feeling which has me crawling in the deepest,
psychic parts of my torment,
in the wrong, dark place,
where the ghosts of negativity reside.
Or is it the feeling of insecurity?
The feeling which lets me despise myself,
over and over again,
for the imperfect beauty that I hide.
Or maybe it's the feeling of love that I ponder.
The feeling of falling so deeply,
no one could ever help me climb out of it,
the feeling of giving my all,
only to be left alone,
standing on a two way diverging road.
But in all honesty,
I think,
it is simply the feeling of feeling something.
Anything,
for the sake of having emotions for my poetry,
words for the repressed thoughts that I save,
kavya for the redemption that I escape.
~kc
16.1.17
12:12 AM.
Kavya: poetry.