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here you are
farther to my touch,
closer to my heart;
bridging gaps between
my heady desires and,
sanity and sensibility.

here I am
lost in your thoughts
and words,
dreaming about a hundred
springs and summers
that await us.

here you are
looking into my eyes
asking questions and
seeking answers; listening
intently to all the quiet
sighs and loud silences.

here I am
showing you the way
around and letting you
through the walls I've
built  without fears or
inhibitions of any sort.

here we are
brought together by
the distance but aren't
sure of treading the
paths we've never
been on before.

here we are
writing happy little
stories in sand until
the impending wave of
doom and despair crashes
into the castles of our future.

and here we will be
hiding behind
those tiniest of smiles
that keep lingering on
our lips which have always
reluctantly said goodbye.
To the person I see when I look at the mirror,
You are all I had when I felt lonely in a hustling
and bustling crowd, swimming in cold waters.
We have ebbed and flowed, sailing smoothly at times
and through raging storms sometimes that have
made us one hell of an ugly shipwreck.

To the person I see when I look at the mirror,
You are all I have to fight every single day that comes
with a hundred surprises and a thousand plans.
We will get to the other side of the shore and
explore all that the world has to offer, we will go to
the places where the sun shines the brightest, I promise.

To the person I see when I look at the mirror,
You are all I needed when I had a blurry vision
and was tripping over my own thoughts.
We worked on ourselves for countless hours.
You took me into your arms, hushed my mind
and said everything is going to be fine.

To the person I see when I look at the mirror,
You are all I need to stand tall and go about this
life that seems to have a lot of things to teach me.
We will grow and be better than what we
were yesterday; learning constantly, never repeating
our mistakes but making brand new ones everyday, I promise.

To the person I see when I look at the mirror,
You are all that was there in my success and failure
to tell me that I am much more than this.
We doubted our potential and didn’t believe in
our voice, maybe we didn’t have a voice and maybe
we still don’t have one but we never stopped looking for it.

To the person I see when I look at the mirror,
you are all that I will ever have till I breathe my last
and I couldn’t have asked for more, thank you, best friend.
What if we don’t have enough time left on this earth?
Then listen to me, today you are here, you are alive, you are strong,
you are loved, you are capable, you are my miracle and that is enough.
You are enough, I promise.
These days ‘I love you’ sounds different.
It hides in the good morning texts with
a sleepy smile and asks me to eat on time.

It holds my hand tightly when
I am nervous and shaking, to
tell me that I am bigger than my fears.

There it lurks behind all those
times when my feelings and thoughts are
understood and acknowledged without judgement.

It remembers the biggest of my worries,
celebrates the smallest of my wins too
and is with me in every prayer offered in my name.

Through all the pain and sadness, it wipes my
tears promptly and lets me know that I am not
alone and that we will go through this together.

It disguises as another three words I
need to hear whenever my spirits are low
and whispers in a firm voice, “you are enough!”

To me that wasn’t so apparent.
So it comes again in the noon and leaves
a reminder to drink some water soon.

It breathes life into the countless promises
made to stand by me no matter what and
daily mentions without fail that I’m not naught.

Then it suddenly takes me into its arms and
like the mighty sun on a chilly winter day, spreads
the kind of warmth that I have always craved for.

It walks next to me, slowly, like my shadow
and says I have to believe in myself more
than anything else, even when there is no hope.

Time and again it surfaces in the form of
honesty and truth, builds trust and confidence
between us and holds our world from falling apart.

It sits in front of me and apologises for everything
done wrong, works on what could have been right
and strives to be better with every passing day.

These days ‘I love you’ sounds different.
Everyday it returns home in the night
and chides me to go to bed early.

It will always be more than just those three
words and from now on, I will pay attention
and show how grateful I am that it exists.
Soumya Inavilli Aug 2019
Here is my heart, shrouded in thick

cloaks and fortified behind tall walls.

It now sleeps in the lap of darkness

snug and sheltered from the unknown.

The palace of ice is its home and

everything around it is frozen, damp, impenetrable.

Not even the warmest sunshine could get

this far and deep into the realm of murky waters.

The muscles have hardened with age, the blood

barely makes it in and out of the doors.

As brittle as glass it had become, afraid

that it will shatter into pieces in someone's hands.

Never leave this place, it kept chanting these

words for years now, content with the cold.

But did it really want to stay here all its life

fearing and shunning everything outside its cavern?



Here you are, explorer of the distant worlds and

seeker of treasures that are worth more than gold.

Your strange maps have somehow revealed my

whereabouts that were kept secret all this while.

What made you take this path, I wonder, you

could've gone anywhere but you chose this route.

Thrice you knocked on my doors;

I was almost there, ready to unbolt and unlock.

Wait, said the heart, don't let that person in;

what if they hurt me, we don't want that now, do we?

But you stood there waiting for me to open up,

chiseling sculptures out of the ice to amuse yourself.

Little chinks were now forming in the walls;

at last, your perseverance has amazed me.

Maybe it would do no harm to peep out for a second,

I said to the heart, but was I really sure?



Here we are, standing on either side of the cracks,

fumbling to strike a conversation.

The heart raced around at full speed, no amount

of constant reassurance could calm it down.

It was then I heard you telling me stories about the places

you've gone to and the memories you made there.

Your voice thawed my heart, the blood rushed in it

and started making music inside me.

I sat down listening and the sun started to sink,

orange, red, pink, purple, the heart stared at the sky.

You taught it how to laugh, how to cry, how to

get hurt, how to heal, how to forgive and how to love.

The heart never felt so exposed yet safe, timid

yet composed, vulnerable yet at peace with itself.

Now when it opens the windows to breathe in some

fresh air, I ask it - since when did you get so brave?
Soumya Inavilli May 2018
Of parallel lines that would never converge.

You and I were just the same,
running around the world chasing our dreams,
weaving colourful dramas out of
our mundane monochrome lives.

You and I were just the same,
building bridges made of thoughts to reach out
to each other whenever words fell short
and spoke often with our eyes.

You and I were just the same,
treading on the same plane carrying each
others burden and revelling in each others
happiness though our paths were never alike.

You and I are still just the same,
or maybe that's what I like to think so
we only chose to move ahead in
different directions now.

You and I will always be just the same
we sure will change with time and age but deep
inside me a part of you lives and
in you I shall continue to exist.

You and I belong to the same old story,
only now writing different versions of it in our heads,
and living the tale
of parallel lines that would never converge.
Soumya Inavilli Mar 2018
There are several people who have always belonged with me,
which ones do really know who I am?

There are multiple universes hidden inside of me,
which ones could you explore?

There are a hundred different layers cloaked beneath my skin,
which ones are you aware of?

There are many masks that I use daily to conceal,
which ones did you see me wearing?

There are a lot of high walls surrounding my heart every moment,
which ones did I let you breakthrough?

There are numerous stories stashed up in my head,
which ones did I tell you about last night?
Soumya Inavilli Feb 2018
If the papers lying on my desk
had a voice, they would ask me
why don’t I write anymore.
They would ask for more stories
about us that I kept telling them
for years, we are their favourites.
I first started writing when you
came in with a smile and
filled my heart with your warmth.
One day you’ve left me grieving in
this cold, dark place and I thought
may be I could write for one last time.
Tears stained the papers instead of
ink, but they didn’t understand
this new language I wrote in.
Those papers are just lying there,
I never write again after
wiping the last tear off my face.
May be they do have a voice and
want to know what made me
stop writing, but I can’t hear them now.
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