Did you ever think I would write about my disappointments with you?

Did you ever think I was upset with you?

Are you bothered about me?
The greatest truth it binds,
My good actions benefit me, and the wrong ones have a straying effect on me.

But a little notion,
a small bond my heart yearns for, is in the ashes
because I feel you don't care about me!
©shivpoetesspriya

You did not look at me because you wanted to keep me safe?
Your side gaze to a distance seems like a reason, even though I don't know much about it.

It doesn't matter to you if I feel despair when you don't give me your gaze.
Why?
To keep me safe, with what heart shall I cry the tears of understanding?

My understanding will change.
For that, shall I detach myself from not looking at you?
For what? Is it to see you again with my above questions and vote for myself to be more, right?
©shivpoetesspriya

I'm sorry.
The words said were not only about feelings that conveyed surface-level emotions, but I realized those words were much deeper in feelings and conveyed something more than that.

But how would I have understood about it then?
I don't know if I'm about to change my emotions for you, so I don't know.

One can write dignified phrases to offer a reward and put something on a pedestal to adore it thoroughly. Similarly, one can write and create hatred against someone wholeheartedly in writing: all this happens in writing.

I think one can ask oneself while writing;
Did you open up your wounds and revisit your emotions without scratching them but feel hurt again?

It is like you are holding your piece in front of you and asking if it broke you or if you laughed at it when it sang a sad song to you.

I agree; my childishness continues, and I feel hurt when you can look at me but choose not to!
©shivpoetesspriya

The rigidness and stubbornness.
It seems like a waste.

At the end of the day, all its tenants
are galloped by the sorrow.

When sorrowing eyes lower down,
they weep the pain of their heart.

And again, in just a few seconds.
The rigidness.
The stubbornness.
It seems like a waste of its futile, growling, meek efforts!
©shivpoetesspriya

A faintly meagering idea lacking enough conviction soon ought to disappear, along with my futile intention for not having any decisive effect!
The reasoned heart is the principal constituent behind our inclination!
With its influencing nature and directiveness, our intention caters to our longing by stirring our inherent cause for attaining it.

The distressing inner sphere involves the anguish of not achieving our desires and potentialities. It is a universal human experience that one can relate to.
But our saviour, the soul guardian, the keeper, the preserver, the determined paladin, the pure reason and tone- this is our intention.

Our intention remains intact. It wanders in us and stays behind every basis and ground in us. It firmly persists in our blazing conscience, consciousness, and subconsciousness, thus becoming a testament to our resilience and capacity for growth.
©shivpoetesspriya

I don't feel my reasons and excuses will ever end. After seeing you, I will always expect your gaze, and this persistence will add a new chapter to my book.

I don't feel that the waves in my book stop hitting rock bottom to see if you are looking at me, so my reasons and motivation persist; the book remains incomplete as the chapters never conclude.

This never-ending book reminds me of your particular gaze, which I yearn to feel in my heart. But my expectation that you should look at me wins, and so the book always remains incomplete with its futile persistence.
©shivpoetesspriya

If I have developed feelings for you, it's a good turn. At least it's better than constantly fighting with you.

But if it's about developing feelings, it's more than that because you're always more than just a mother.

Will my feelings lead me to a safe place?
A safe place for my conversations with you?

Won't it be more than feelings?
I wish it were more than feelings because you are always more than a mother.
©shivpoetesspriya