#guiltypleasure
I Remember, I was twelve.
It was the first time I stayed up the whole night.
Not because I could but because my friend said I couldn't.
Curled with a book, stifling yawn after yawn.
I watched the sun rise
So elated. So naive.
Afterall who'd willingly pass up on sleep if not a child.
I remember I was twelve
Escaping clutches of sweet sleep.
Six years later I lay in bed,
Struggling to call the sleep I pushed away.
Staring aimlessly, frustrated,
screaming into a pillow, clutching it tightly.
6:40am IST
My eyes sting and relentless tears stream from them falling like caresses on my cheek.
I twist, I turn.
I try and try some more,
Then slowly succumb to boredom,
Seeking the sleep I hid from.
Nov 12, 2021
Nov 12, 2021 at 8:18 PM UTC
you feed me by hand
I don't care how little
or how much
because this is the most delicious thing i've had in a long while.
you are at fault for
the overflow of trepidation collecting across my tongue that accuses me
the mess i've made of my head assuming.
I have equal fault and take the guilt as it comes
like when you benefit me with conversation
shower just enough discipline and attention
to guide me slowly but surely
steady
or when i procure my own fantasia
blissed in my own imagination
anticipation
curiosity
of what satisfies your appetite.
Nov 22, 2019
Nov 22, 2019 at 7:38 PM UTC
A serenade to the crowd
The applaud white noise to my ears
As I perform to please
To tempt, to tease.
Divine indulgence
A guilty pleasure they seek
I undress myself with grace
I pout, I pose with ease.
Its only art
And baby I play a character so well
A show-stopper
They swoon, but they never tell.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 8:19 PM UTC
If you think that
I will wait in the shadows
keeping my head down
my organs, my time
at your disposal
You are blind
In the worst kind of way
I have been the trick
up the sleeve of
dishonest players
enough to know
that darkness well
penetrating only the physical
powerless against the invisible
I refuse to be kept
as a secret, a guilty pleasure
no more will you
take me behind closed doors
pretending not to be
intoxicated in front
of your friends
You will never see
me on my knees
for your sins
Your sinister sermon
no longer whispers
in my ear
And the weight of
your demons
Has lifted from my shoulder
The mistress of your cruelty
no more,
The empire we ruled
The castle we shared
All ruins now
Tales of our torrid
love affair will be
greatly misremembered
You, wearing my crown
And I, wearing your ill repute.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
There sits a box
beneath my bed
where I gently place
each one of you.
You are all
beautiful
in your distortion.
I pop each of you
out,
every once in a while;
like ice cubes
from a tray.
You slither and melt
into me,
your frozen waters;
an ocean of time.
I'm taken back
to when
you all meant something.
All my deceit and pain
tied tightly
with a
velvet ribbon;
offered
as a gift.
I disguise you
with costumes
so grand
you appear to be
a commodity,
property of
trickery so dark.
I keep you
hidden
in that box
beneath my bed
where you can't escape
without my key.
You only come out
when my demons
won't sleep;
their elusive charm
so seductive;
a perverse
mutilation
of thought.
Pad-locked
and secret
are the lies
I've told.
The lives
I've lead
and those I've
destroyed.
Underneath the rubble
and debris
breathes a girl
so lost,
squandering herself
aimlessly;
without reason.
So in the box
you will stay,
wrapped up warm
in blankets of
regret,
until the time comes
to clean out
what lies beneath
my bed.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC