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The old dog barks backwards without getting up.
I can remember when he was a pup.
she told me
I broke her heart
but she
had mine
in her hands
and she
was holding it
so tightly
and she
was stopping it
from beating
and she
was killing me;
what was I
supposed to do?
To carve your name into my skin
with metallic black ink
would be an ideal curse, because
I think you might follow the loops,
the curves,
every ridge and every twist
with precious fingers
designed to chill me to the bone
(and simultaneously warm my soul).
My heart is volcanic
(but only for you),
in the way that it remains perpetually chilled,
dead,
uninteresting,
until sparked by the tremor of your presence,
after which it never stops overflowing with heat
and bringing unique destruction to everyone nearby.

Good thing you like chaos.
I'm not sure if this is directed towards anyone in particular- I'm just in a good mood and felt like writing, I guess.
 May 2014 Shruti Chakraborty
Kari
While our sun is setting during
The evening commute,
On the other side it's
Rising.
Alarm clocks and whistling
Coffee pots in morning light
Breakfast cigarettes on the
Front porch watching dawn break
And I'm watching dusk so
For a second in time we're
Inexplicably intertwined.
That night the moon
Ascended reluctantly
To its nocturnal throne
That night I steered
my eyes expectantly
To its corpse cold glow
Under a crown
Rimmed with stars
I saw a specter dance
A faded memory
In a bone white frock
Night wind and grey hair
Soundless voice and empty stare
"Is this just good poetry?
In the moonlit park
Or are these the laments
Of your broken heart?"
She shed a single tear
On the cool of my palm
I said the night fares fine
I cannot hold what isn't mine
She laughed out bitter tears
"Don't hold it for long
Pick up your heart
Cherish what is gone
Bit by bit, piece by piece"
A heart can only break
When someone tries to reach
And plays with it at least
Prose
Far away, far away
Beneath a wraith of thorns
Not today, not today
I will never forget the scorn

Far below, far below
Under a bouquet of seeds
I must go, I must go
Where mother and son bleed

Not again, not again
The sky will suffer and hate
Far ahead, far ahead
There are ruins lying in wait

Far behind, far behind
Beside corpses twisted in regret
Never again, never again
Should we let the living forget
''The nation which forgets its defenders will be itself forgotten.'' -Calvin Coolidge
I wonder what brought on the plague inside of me
Was it the fight with the reflections
that brought on this anger, the insecurity?
Or was it the people who left my battle- they faked their affection and stranded me with my mind?
My prison.
This place where I'm eternally confined.
Stop wishing upon the stars and start making your dreams come true, because the stars you're looking at are already dead but you're not.
Written: May 1. - 2014
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