Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Shivani Lalan Dec 2014
Begin anew.
Start afresh.
I want to go
to a place
where there is nought
but my heart
splayed out like
waves over the rocky beach.

My emotions will flow as
the waves caress,
gently,
each grain of sand,
every grain of sand
in the teeming lifelessness
of the sea
that cannot be
fathomed.

The tides ebb
and the tides
flow;
but the water moves not.
It is still and will be,
for change does not
skim the beach.

Begin anew?
Start afresh?

You try it first.

The waves will,
for once,
wait
and
watch.
  Dec 2014 Shivani Lalan
Madhurima
When you realized
my walls couldn't be knocked down
you built a roof on them
and called it *home
  Dec 2014 Shivani Lalan
Madhurima
us.
We could have been an us
if we had tried
I guess we waited too long
now our love has died.
Ramblings.
Shivani Lalan Nov 2014
It came to me as I walked out the door.

My heart, I probably forgot
on his doorstep.
Or in the pocket of his favourite sweatshirt,
or in the first strains of his voice,
singing the song of my heart,
for my heart.

What does it matter?
It's all just shards anyway.
Shards hurt.
They pierce your skin,
as they do mine.
But in me, they evoke a flood.
and in you,
a string broken,
and nought else.

It has been my sweetest downfall,
watching you tear at life.
Colliding with fire.
running headlong toward the plunge
Crashing with my walls,
beaten back by catastrophic emotion.
You sighed,
and walked
and watched.
All I had to do was break down,
and you'd be standing there.

The shards you did not pick up.
No.
The shards you swept away
under the languid carpet.
they stayed there,
blameless.
For it is the fall that caused the shards
and not the other way round.

"The shards will help you feel."
I said.
"No, the shards you can keep."
A sharp shake, 'no'
Maybe he does not want to remember
that perhaps a quiet word,
a secret smile
would have seen the shards intact where
glittering stones and fresh satin
could not.

What does it matter?
The silence isn't too loud.
The void isn't too full.
The cold isn't too harsh.
The tear isn't too sad.

What does it matter?
To you,
or
to the shards.
SERIOUSLY I am NOT heartbroken and whatnot ugh shush people.
Shivani Lalan Nov 2014
Anyone would be upset, right?

You took a slice of my cake,
It took me seven hours to bake.
Red Velvet is hard to learn,
That one slice, one should earn.

The vanilla layer was hard to lay out
At least five times, I was wracked by doubt,
Whether the cream-to-butter was three or four
And the icing or the colouring comes before.

No, steal the extra crust you can,
I don’t need it anyway in the pan.
What I wanted was the tiny sprinkles,
That you licked off without a ******.

Go away, don’t touch my cake.
Is funny.
Please Laugh.
Shivani Lalan Oct 2014
Your neck is bruised and red and raw,
dear dream.
Your pulse is feeble, last that I saw,
dear dream.
Your eyes, they have lost that light,
dear dream.
Your soul has given up this fight,
dear dream.

This you know in your heart,
dear dream.
That you were never meant to be a part
of the soaring hope and flourishing start
expected of you by them,
dear dream.

The noose,
It tightens around your neck,
dear dream.
They’re telling you you’re a wreck,
dear dream.
You are given marching orders, ‘
dear dream.
You are given reckless borders,
dear dream.

The noose,
It tells you how to feel,
dear dream.
It tells you when to heel,
dear dream.
And when I tell you to run,
dear dream.
Catching you will not pass for fun,
dear dream.

The noose,
Waits for you in light and dark,
dear dream.
Waits to douse that spark,
dear dream.
Flee, my dear,
dear dream.
Hide, my dear,
dear dream.

The noose,
It waits patiently for its due,
dear dream.
A warning, an ode.
Run, my dear,
dear dream.

— The End —