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 Oct 2016 Puspanjali Sahu
Xyns
Whore
 Oct 2016 Puspanjali Sahu
Xyns
Just because it has a heartbeat
Doesn't mean you can **** it.
K? K.
I think you need to get a new hobby  that doesn't involve penises.
~
we are breathing the same air
we are looking at the same skies
we are living in the same world*

but why are our hearts are not beating in the same rhythm?

©IGMS
Loving the abstract you

Now that you in flesh are
No longer here

(Many years,
So long)

Your hair unplugs the bathroom

Harsh words
Entail no tears

Your beauty lingers
Burned under my eyelids
And your perspicacity
Shields my fear
 Jul 2016 Puspanjali Sahu
NV
\_
 Jul 2016 Puspanjali Sahu
NV
\_
because all my heartbreaks hang around my neck like charms on a necklace,
i could easily turn into a noose.

and i try let these worries sit on my tongue until they become soft enough for me to swallow them whole.

but my heart,
my heart is barely beating,
like the hands of an antique clock,
someone forgot to wind.
Inspirations Arc
A Heartbeat
From Man Once Loved
Now Pained to Be Forgotten
With Eyes For God
This only did I See
Behind this Sight
Those lesser thoughts
Returned Nothing
But Dispairs Distaining Look
Who Knew
In a Moment of Quick Wondering
The Whole Tribe...
Pounced Upon
Gift Given
Sure Justice Warning
For Loves a Jealous Keeper
And None Shaould Have Her
but for those that Paid the Price
Just a story of a cliff, with the Ocean at the Bottom.. Waves crashing.. Noting Greater than Natures Beauty
tell me
why private thoughts
become so loud and violent
upon our faces that
they peel the layers of skin,
and our own form of sun,
burns us alive inside.
i waited patiently for your breath
like hot summer nights,
a whisper of a wind, a secret
tantalizing, lost in lulls of sleep
and i'm restless in bed,
sheets suffocate me with the
lies of your body, and
ghosts are more familiar
than your scent.
tell me, i screamed it with my
eyes as you slept.
i once held your palm and
felt your fingers slip,
did they reach for hers
instead?
© copyright

poem on adultery
still going through writers block. posting stuff i wrote a few months back and forgot about.
 Jul 2016 Puspanjali Sahu
autumn
The only part of my day
That I look forward to
Is when I go to bed
And lay there making up scenarios
In my head.

I think of comebacks
To 8th grade bullies.
I think of witty retorts
To my mother's snide comments.
I think of intelligent things to add
To conversations I had months ago.

I think of all the things
I was too scared to say.

And in my mind
I say them.
And pretend how things would be different
If only I had the courage to speak.
I tried to hurt myself today,
to see if I could still feel,
but the pain is lost,
and nothing left is real,

I remember everything,
no relief from old ideals
just got to try to cry it away,
and still nothing feels quite real,

No bullets nor ballots,
could really fix my inner friend,
they hide away,
left unfound in the end,

Take it all away,
my blood and guts of dirt,
I can't feel a thing,
I can't make it hurt,
I have yet to know a self I can call my own,
wandering through these bodies
the way one would try on clothes
but far deeper
than this analogy could ever dig,
I live with these identities.

I fall for them
the way lovers do in autumn,
keen that the coming winter
will leave me yearning
for the comfort of another,
but no sooner do the bells of spring
begin to ring in summer air
does the necessity of this comfort fade.
The temptation of sweeter fruit
hangs above me in the orchard shade
and an affluenza of potential
almost coerces me to stay.

Though no self have ever felt my own
I know within my heart, within my blood
and in my bones, more than anything
I am compelled to grow
towards entropy and complexity,
ascending, never settling at any plateau
a silverback drumming his barrel chest
and roaring into the void of the valley below
“What is next for me!”

and the answer is silence
(I should have known)
it hurts
breathing,
living,
existing.

it hurts knowing that
wherever i go
i'll be stuck in
this fear of -
i don't even know what.

but in the darkest parts
of my mind i can see
his face, his smile, his
eyes and the way they
drank me in like liquid love.

it didn't even happen
like that,
in a dark place,
but i'll never be able to see
him without the hatred
boiling inside
and bubbling away.

it hurts to be sitting,
having a good day
and one thing reminds
me of him,
of his moment of triumph,
and my stomach caves
and i feel the tears threaten.
i close my eyes
and wish everyone away.

i keep thinking that he loved me,
he said so,
he said it and i believed it
and for so long
i forced myself to believe
that what happened
was okay
because
he loved me.
nightmarish flash backs.
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