Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sasha Ranganath Apr 2020
there are only two genders
trans is not real
are you a boy now?
i would be open to experiment, though
you need to have your brain checked
what are you?

i am unsolved.

an unsolved puzzle,
rubik's cube,
the horizon.

everything you can't figure out at first glance,
something you have to squint at to understand.

but i don't need solving,
i don't need understanding,
i don't need to keep explaining.

i am me,
i am unsolved,
and i am happy.
national poetry writing month day 4 - unsolved
Sasha Ranganath Apr 2020
i don't remember the name of your city anymore.
just that it's 4,483 miles away and i sent you my
sweater in the post four... five years ago.

for seven months we were each others' shoulder to lean on, had each others' arms to fall into,
eyes to get lost inside.

i still remember the way you'd hide your face in your hands every time i looked at you for a second too long
through the blurry webcam.

i still hear your giggle and the way you'd ask why i look at you like that, and the way i'd say it's because
i was in love with you.

the way you'd say 'i love you' and i'd say it back.

it's been years since i wrote about you.
the last time i did, i wondered if either of us fell off
the face of the earth, would we ever know?

and tonight, i write this with a smile,
a little bit of pain and regret,
and my mind going what if, what if, what if.

you showed me what love means even across continents,
even though we knew we'd never really
be able to hold each other,
even though we knew it would end.

it's what brought us together,
what set us apart,
and what finally broke our hearts.
national poetry writing month day 3: distance
Sasha Ranganath Apr 2020
you are electric blue,
charged up,
wreaking havoc like there's no tomorrow.

you are fiery red,
up in flames,
resisting change,
can't keep a straight face.

you are blood orange,
smiling through the pain,
a cheshire cat stare.

and you are sunset yellow,
soft and kind - the warm embrace of a lover.

you are a stroke of violet,
taking life as it comes,
slow, unwavering.

you are the pink of cheeks that blush,
a slow dance in the kitchen at midnight.

you are starry night black,
flawed and beautiful and eternal.

you are green swiveled into white,
serene, calm, still.

you are the full spectrum.

so do your dance and paint every empty canvas with your palette a different pattern every time -
this is why you are alive.
national poetry writing month day 2: personified colours
Sasha Ranganath Apr 2020
to heal is to rage
to heal is to be confused
to heal is to feel the wrath of sorrow and how it can turn a smile sour for seemingly ever.
it will be ages before you go gently into that good night
spending dusk to dawn wondering
wondering why and wondering how
how you let something so precious break between your fingers that were holding it so soft, so dear
a broken videotape in your mind replaying replaying replaying every time you could have done something, said something different but didn't.

healing is cruel, tearing every fibre out with no mercy - you are unlearning
unlearning and relearning over and over again
and surely enough, you're back on your feet, feeling ready to take the world on one more time.

but somewhere you start to stack bricks around your heart hoping it will hurt less the next time around (secretly hoping there won't be a next time around)
and maybe it'll work, maybe it won't
but every time something slips through your hands, the panic while it hits the ground and breaks into a thousand pieces remains,
no matter how gentle you are or how much you care.
national poetry writing month day 1: gentle
Sasha Ranganath Apr 2019
with you i learnt that home is not just made of rooms and four walls // that family does not begin and end with whose blood i share or where i come from // that comfort is not found in just the pillows i rest my head on // that the skies turn pink and shades of blue somewhere in the world everytime i think of you // that even though the tides ebb and flow, high and low, my love never wavers // that when the clouds start to cry, it's because i miss you i miss you i miss you // that when flowers bloom tomorrow, you're telling me you miss me too // that even if the earth breaks open and we all die, through our last breaths we'll smile, we'll just smile / and we'll know that although our bodies fall apart, the stardust in our souls will always know their paths / so that someday when the universe is reborn, my dear, we'll find our way back to each other // love.

- sasha r.
Sasha Ranganath Mar 2019
when you open your eyes
i see vast space
where your thoughts flail
like leaves on a windy day
when you begin to speak
i hear and old soul
with a lingering passion
to go on, move on, what next
your words burn me
like a cigarette on raw skin
they pierce through me
like a thousand icebergs all at once
and when you try letting go
and becoming someone else
i beg for you to return
and wrap me once again
with poetry and prose
cuss words and all
you are all the oceans
and galaxies
the whole universe
and what's beyond it
baby you
could be the hope for all posterity
Sasha Ranganath Mar 2019
you're gone and the wreckage ensues
you're gone and the heartache continues
you're gone and you're never coming back
i miss you.

because when you're dying,
your body is tired of fighting for
fighting with

the internal monologue is coming
to an end now
it's getting dark now
eyes closing now
mind quiet now.


broken whispers,

i have to go now

i have to go now

i have to go now
Next page