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Kiss the calamity on my lips
and leave your imprint of
atrophy like a stain on my skin.
What is really a love poem
but bits of broken words
you said in your sleep?

I hear music in the distance
that sounds like things I cannot
romanticize with justice. There's
deterioration in the melody, and
with every beat
your heart skips I get a closer look
at the fragments of you that fell apart.
Somethings are just too personal,
like what I daydream about 24/7, or
that fire dancing behind your closed lids
that warms your dreams when
another can't fuel them
physically.

The biggest thing about ourselves we
could hope to have is our
complex. And even that
is pretty small. The ground can't
handle the weight of our hearts
and we're just begging to slip
into the cracks of the
pavements to our proverbial
futures. You always did
connect more to torn and ripped
remains of poems
than fresh handwritten ones, with
evidence of my glistening
fingerprints
all over.

We don't die like stars, you say. We die
like heartache. Real, tangible,
and then just gone.
wrote this in pieces, first sleepily over strong coffee at 5am, then in a brainstorming session at night. had it on a shelf for the past few days because i couldn't think of a title and because i felt it was too unconnected.

enough rambling. thank you for reading, i really really appreciate it. -ivy
It's my Birthday today,*
The clock's getting louder.

Tick Tock,
My dreams need me to be punctual,
Tick Tock,
The years are passing in a haste,
Tick Tock,
There's no time to waste,
It's kinda scary.

I hope things don't get worse,
That the pain doesn't get more painful,
That my glass shell stays intact,
Doesn't break.

I want to be happy today,
At least for the most part of it,
So last night,
I broke my silence,
No serious problems are invited,
Not into this new age.

It's an ordinary day for most people,
Not for me though,
It's my Birthday today.
It's been a lovely morning... Happy Birthday to me...
Whats in me that you are trying to hide?
I really dont want to fall for you as much as i have tried
I cannot understand the way you act
Would you just give me a clue..give me a fact?

We have shared those laughter and pain together
And those private moments we share i really treasure
I know you as you know me now even better
But there's still a secret in you that makes me wonder..

There is always been a mystery in every words you utter
I dont know why it makes me feel much better
When will you have guts to set it free
Don't wait for me to open your door that is full of secrecy

I used to share my thoughts each time i look in those mysterious eyes..
Why can you see how inside of me dies?
Will i wait for the sunrise to come?
Or i will wait for forever but please don't make forever be gone..

Try to open the light of wisdom in my heart
Say that you will never leave me and we'll never be apart
Plant the joy of what love brought to my senses
Say the words that i used to say as i reminisce..

Hope you come here to save all my tears
Hope you will comfort me when i have all my fears
But those words were like a butterfly in the stream
It will only happen only in my dream..
freaky angel
10 oct '98
I believe that I can better stand these testing times of pain,
Forget about pain and let it come to me instead,
Reading this poem you will just get better.

For you have better things like studies to worry about, not this disdain,
Time is often irrationally tough, do not worry it will pass as it must,
Just let your problems come to me as I can handle them better.

I only pray to Time in special cases not for myself,
And my friend this is not the time for you to be down with fever,
You have better jobs to manage than staying in this suffering.
Kripi my best friend is not feeling well and I am feeling so bad about it.

I wish her problems take me instead and may she be well soon enough for managing her studies.

If there exists black magic in reality then I offer myself instead so that my best friend may get better prior to her upcoming important exam.

Get well soon Kripiji, your Droṇa can tackle it better right now.

My HP Poem #845
©Atul Kaushal
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