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Janal Rajput Feb 27
All the tears I've cried,
Swam from thine eyes,
Testaments to the times,
Each drop an example,
Of all the hurt and lies,
Yet they flow no more,
Leaving fluid scarring,
Broken meadeners,
Across run down cheeks,
Each line, a visceral cut
Deep into my core,
Reminding me clearly,
The weak don't inherent,
The Earth.
Janal Rajput Jan 2
I am shattered shards,
Grains of sand and stone,
Of thin ice and poker cards,
Yet they slip from my hands,
A hound that's lost his bone,
An arena vacant of any fans,
A sinner reluctant to atone,
Forever lost in distant lands,
Trying to find my own home,
But I am stretched too thin,
Playing a game I won't win.
Janal Rajput Apr 2020
I miss looking out my sky-light star gazing,

Surrounded by the warm glow of candlelight,

Long shadows curling up my walls and over me,

Snuggling close, encasing and tucking me in,

While I fell asleep to the flickering light, blazing.

I miss the sound of comfortable silence,

And the familiarity it could bring me,

Without the chaos and turmoil of my family,

Unraveling in delicate daisies and ambiance.

I miss the feeling of burning wispy jasmine,

Watching the thin lines pierce the air clearly,

As white smoke surrounded and encased me,

I felt free as a bird with all it's grace and beauty.

I miss the edge of my bed; the corners of my bookcase,

Each book containing a different piece of my heart,

How I could re-read them, discover new loving parts,

Escaping reality, swept off the road, leaving no trace.

I miss being able to sit in the moment of my first kiss,

Confidence coming from God knows, I reached over,

Stumbling and fumbling in that cold evening in October,

How I was full of naivety, awkwardness and ignorant bliss.

I miss my old CD's and my prehistoric stereo,

The simplicity of changing albums physically,

Singing along to those old emo songs joyously,,

They were my lifeline, more than I'll ever know.

I miss the lock on my door and the clunky key,

The one time I lost it and had to pay for a locksmith,

The chipped corners from my teenage adolescence,

How it kept me locked away- secluded I was free.

I miss the makeshift and haphazardly made carpet,

The memory of my mother laying it over cold cement,

Making do with little money, but still making it *****,

It was my makeshift carpet and one I'd never forget.

I miss my childhood teddy, one that I didn't even name,

How he would fall down in the dead of night suddenly,

Startling! Yet comforting as I hugged him into me warmly,

Despite not knowing his name, I loved him all the same.

I miss my PlayStation Four and all the friends I made,

My best-friends despite only knowing their usernames,

The adventures we went onto together playing games,

"One more game, one more round-Is it 3am? Another raid!"

I miss those childhood sleepovers with my best mates,

Before the labels, the social cliques and exclusivity,

Where we ate pizza, played Pokemon, thought positively,

Before we all drifted apart, to different schools and classmates.
I miss my childhood home sometimes..
Janal Rajput Apr 2020
We tried to grow red roses;

But they were rotten from root, out of place,

In a colorful meadow we once called our own,

When you left me, running away without a trace,

We tried to grow red roses;

Maybe they would have bloomed, had you stayed,

But I doubt it, your thumb is as green as your heart,

Instead you left me to rejuvenate your rot and decay,

We tried to grow red roses;

But the seeds hadn't a chance, you knew from the start,

Emotionally unavailable gardeners reap what they sew,

I found many fields, where you also crossed your heart,

We tried to grow red roses;

Talking other gardener's into broken and cracked promises,

Already planning on your next field to seed rot through,

Heinz-sight exposed your compromises to excuses,

We tried to grow red roses;

But they are nothing but ash and grey dust in the wind,

See my garden now comes with fences and lie detectors,

To detect liars like you, throwing them in my compost bin,

I will regrow those red roses;

So they bloom brilliantly, they will shake in effervescence,

With both of my gentle hands, without your green heart,

So they know a love that is constant and not just convenient,

I will regrow those red roses;

So that I can learn to love my garden again, in all its glory,

Not one just filled with roses but bluebells, daffodils, violets,

And when you come back, Gaze upon me with green envy.
  Apr 2020 Janal Rajput
Felicity Paris
I will say
I do not love you
until my mouth forgets your taste

I will write
I do not love you
until my fingers forget
how your hands feel, wrapped in mine
and my poems no longer
reek of sadness and desperation

I will believe
I do not love you
until it becomes impossible
or until I begin
to love someone new
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