Podium

That’s me on the totem pole,
with the face paints and cigarettes.
The smoke burns your eyes.

That’s me on the pedestal,
ears to ground and eyes in the clouds.
The rain soaked your skin.

That’s me on the platform,
with the rucksack and treasured artefacts,
The timetables melted your mind.

That’s me on the podium,
soaked in sweat, medal around my neck.
The track broke your heart.

That’s me at the finish line baby,
maybe,
we could go back to the start.

My heart skips a beat at the sound of your heavenly moan
As my lips attach to the particular spot on your neck that I own

Your warm breath, tinged on my ear through our conversation
Causing in the pit of my stomach, a deep and fluterry sensation

The rhythm of our bodies set by the rise and fall of your breathing
In this moment, an immense amount of love for you I am feeling

Oh the sweet scent of your being clouded my senses as i breathe you in deep
It all felt so real, it aroused me from my sleep

The cold that seeped from reality, the warmth of my dream it broke
Regreting the moment I ever awoke

With your white silky sheets, my face I cover
Squeeze my eyes shut, in hopes that the dream I may recover
And regain the presence of the only one who will ever truly matter

Living helpless, I lost my way. An endless pit, a hollow day. I saw a light, shining bright, to guide me back into your sight. I was broken, you fixed my soul, you began to make me feel whole. You took my pieces, scattered far, now whats left is just a scar. You found me, lost and alone, but you took me in, and gave me a home.

Every time I rest my head on his chest, I could hear echoes of all the people who had let go.

Oh how I wish for my poems to be read
How I wish for them to be adored
"Just be patient", they said.
I don't want to be ignored

It's getting out of line
Inexperienced and no worth
Help wanted said the sign
Wanting this depth be unearthed

I'm done with writing ****

I didn’t cry when you left
Neither did I say anything to anyone
I just kept quiet for a few days

But, I've observed everything
And suffered even more

That blue shirt,
Which you often used to wear
Is ironed and arranged
in the wooden closet

Your specs are still kept
on the television..
And the umbrella ..
waiting for the rainy season..

In The last rains
We were soaked and drenched
I did not touch your umbrella ..
I know,
That you do not like
If  your things are misplaced

I’ve told the cobbler
To mend your old shoe
Your watch is repaired
With a battery brand new

Taylor has stitched your pants
With a lining inside
And
Your bed is done
And mom waiting by its side.

Dad ....
I know
You will be tired by the journey
But this time,
Please stand still
And Rest for some time
I will take off your shoes
And massage your legs
To make you de-stress
Whatever you’ll say
I'll do it all
Just stand still
And be there

You know what dad ...
The last time you left ..
You left us shocked...

Ananya

baby my body is a masterpiece
my scars are a work of art
every battle and every victory
has had its own important part

my legs were my canvas
my blades were the paint
by night I was Picasso
and by day I was a saint