I can tell you were doubting me.
I can see you were uncertain about what we could be.

But here i am,
I was sure about you.
I was certain about what we could be.

But all the certainty was not enough,
The love i gave was never sufficient.

Jesus looks down on me
A tidal wave of hope
Crushed and smashed against the rocks
It drowns with everything else

Somehow I make it to the nearest town
Looking for shelter
I stumble upon familiar roads
See familiar faces
Faces that may haunt me forever

I climb up a lighthouse
It should be the key out of here
It should show me all my future
It should have helped me

Instead I only see the somber clouds
And mystic fog settle in
I can’t help but watch the water pull in and out again
Drifting back and forth
Moon playing tug-of-war

I can’t stand looking at the familiar view
The same thing over and over
So I must ask myself these questions again:

Do you know who you are?
Do you know where you are?
Do you know what has happened to you?

Jesus send me another wave
This time of peaceful realization
Don’t send me away

Everything
i was fond of him
Never existed in him,

Instead
Everything I love about you
Is all that I kept seeking in him

While , he was just a  
  m
       i
          r
             a
                g
                   e ;
And here you're !
A certain  
   t
      r
         u
             t
                h
Of mine ..


©poojakaundal
apr212018

By the grave of your every love,
I have cried for nights.
For the love they took to their graves
and the life you have lost.
This life that demands me to suffer without hope.
This ocean that I never thought my feet would touch.
The night seem so lonely,
not having someone to
look for me
when I have lost my way
inside the wreck of your life.
Trying to heal the wounds that
you never gave me the right to touch.
The gravestone cries with me.
Like this gravestone,
I mark the life
of the love you lost.

There are certain deaths
that must be lived.

The familiar images of a girl with strength
and a guy with heart
and feelings that can be reasoned.
I found them everywhere in stories
but not in life.
Mostly they were just weak people
who learnt how to live with their heart.
And loved and let themselves be loved
with the faults that they had.
Here
people who were – what they were.
No love or devotion
promising to change them into lovable beings.
Especially when ‘lovable’ was defined
by people who didn’t approve certain lives
and certain love.
And the perfect image of love
and notion of the perfect people who deserved it
made me think of the emotions we cut from our heart.
Leaving us little more empty,
taking us a little more far
from the perfect life that we were told to have.

im fairly certain now
so close to the truth
though doubt still lingers
in the back of my head

nearly grasping
almost touching
barely a distance
to be crossed
yet still
i pull back
afraid
i might be right