Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
amrutha Apr 2019
I feel a fever in my chest
warm and persistent
I long to meet you
and turn into vapour in the
heat of your
breath
amrutha Nov 2018
deafening silence

old creaky doors unsure

whether to stay shut or stay put



inky sky

wet flowers in the backyard

mean kids running

in childhood streets



quiet love

between mother and daughter

quiet distance

between husband and wife



all good things

make you wait

stay put

in this lilac house

of today
amrutha Nov 2018
Come sit next to me
and don't speak a word
I will find in your flaws
something to treasure
and caress your unruly hair
when you're miles deep in sleep
amrutha Nov 2018
I lay in my bed in a room echoing with the sound of your voice, wet and blue like a september evening.
amrutha Oct 2018
I fall into river
the water is wet, I'm begging
for it to make me feel
the way we do when we're together

I fall into sky
unafraid I fall, I'm singing
a soft birdsong
with familiar tickles in my tummy
This is nowhere close
to you and me

I fall into silence
at the end of day
stunned in gratitude.
amrutha Oct 2018
His eyes are blue even
though they're as black as
a rainy night
I look at him and feel the rot inside my chest,
the imperfections of my habits
I lie bare before him
and he watches with care
and says
you are the moon of my night
amrutha Jun 2018
My colors are changing into ugly shades of pink
and the nausea is kicking in but wait
hold on, stay right there it'll get
better? worse? what am I dragging you in this for?
Exit please. Oh yes, the
colors they change when the sky dampens
late after lunch too soon after dinner
while I belch my mother walks by
as she tells me to pull my **** together, oh
the good old days haven't gone past me just yet
I sometimes think of my father
and how I should try loving him for
smiling at me and calling my mother a *****
while I tried hard to sleep
Sometimes I think I love my mother way too much
so much that I try to socialize and then I
somehow realize that was an ouch idea
Pessimism is more honest because the optimist
is lying to everyone.
Next page