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But you pinky promised
And you're not supposed to break pinky promises
 Sep 2015 Anshita Mehrotra
nivek
out of sight, unknown, in secret
this is love not wanting to be rewarded

a love its own reward
Blood in my eyes,
Slack in my faith,
Baby, I know it,
Your love is a wraith.

Blood in my eyes,
Slack in my faith,
Baby, You know it,
I commemorate
All who follow
The dream evermore.
Live the dream.
That's what it's for.

Blood in my eyes,
Slack in my faith.
You say it, then you don't,
But, you want me to stay.
You're not the dream
That I've wished for,
I'm going to chase my dream
To the farthest shore.
Then I'm going
To board a vessel,
Without a shred
Of guilt to wrestle.

Blood in my eyes,
Slack in my faith,
Like a bullet on fire,
I break from your gate.
I'll be on distant lands.
You will wonder
Why you have no man.

Blood in my eyes,
Slack in my faith.
Baby, I know it.
Your love is a wraith.
Blood in my eyes,
Stars on my vest,
I linger on
No past regret.

Blood in my eyes,
Slack in my faith,
Baby, I know it,
Your love is a wraith.
This is a mantra,
I often say,
When I think
Of that sweet day
When I'll finally find
The courage to leave you~
This is a companion piece to Dear John, another poem I submitted to this site. It has been decades in the making.
 Sep 2015 Anshita Mehrotra
Baylee
As I lay here,
With my head on your chest,
Our bodies entangled,
You've got me wondering.
You've got me wondering,
Just how many girls
Have laid here before me,
How many girls did you talk into bed?
Do you use the same lines on all of us?
Did you tell them what you told me?
Or is it really different with me?
I lay here with my head on your chest,
My eyes wide open,
These thoughts racing through my head,
When you ask me,
What's on your mind?
But I keep quiet about this,
Mumble nothing to you,
And as you drift off to sleep
I grab my things and leave.
I grab my things and leave,
Just like all the others did before me.
this one is self-explanatory.
 Sep 2015 Anshita Mehrotra
thymos
i've heard it said:
we keep a special place in our hearts
for those who refuse to be impressed by us.
every time you like a poem
that isn't one i wrote in hope of ensnaring you,
i become slightly more obsessed.
Jean de La Bruyère said the thing, sharp guy, long dead
I think the hardest part about not being happy
Is remembering all the times that you were.
 Sep 2015 Anshita Mehrotra
gene
“But I am petrified of several things,
I am petrified that I am badly smitten,
I am petrified that I am sorely into you,
I am petrified as this kind of feeling arise from deep within,
I am petrified that I am completely, utterly in love with you.

And someday you’ll wake up when reality has finally dawned on you,
That I am just another mistake,
I am petrified that you are my ocean,
And I’ve never loved drowning
…so much.”
Good morning, fellas. A brand new Sunday awaits for you. God bless us all. :)

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