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  • tingesofhysteria 3w

    Note - I

    they will come to you
    in their fake-friend uniform
    and you'll see them for what they are
    their eyes will smell like morsels of imminent betrayal
    and their perfect faces will echo " fair-weather friends"
    but you'll be so hurt-worn , so deprived of love ,
    you'll let them in
    you'll somehow convince yourself into believing their kindness is generosity but yours an obligation
    you'll somehow deceive your heart into believing they'll stay after the night falls
    but before you know it
    they'll be gone like a most that leaves no trace as to how it left after convincing you it would stay
    only a mist fades completely into oblivion
    but the false hope they show you stay behind to taunt you after the party

    Note - II

    running away from who are is hard
    but running to who you want to be is even harder
    they will bring in their make-shift moral policies and scriptures to prove you impure
    (spoiler alert - they will succeed)

    Note - III

    never gift your heart to someone you know will never gift you theirs
    and by accident if you do
    you will never love again
    you will lose the art of loving and
    your heart will forget how to beat the moment you part ways with him
    coz no one will look like him
    smell like him
    have his gaze or his scent
    no will have his voice
    his name will burn like a fire but you'll him in your scalded palms untill even the ashes are a past

    in another country people will die and people will kill for love
    but you'll be running crusades against love on valentine's day
    so darling lock the door

    Note IV

    you will holler in the night when your mother's taunts dissolve into tears
    her sobs will be barrels of guns
    but you're already a terrorist

    -- //notes //

    #love#poemsindia#poetrycommunity #poetsofmiraquill #writersofmiraquill#writersofmiraquill @writersnetwork

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  • tingesofhysteria 5w

    You taught me that memories are the greatest legacy to leave behind -- they are either the reason you smile at midnight before drifting to sleep or reason you wail at 2 a.m. .

  • tingesofhysteria 5w

    I was 7 when my teacher painted my cheeks red and they swelled like upheavals of red mud fresh from tectonic movements
    that day I came home feeling sullied and empty like the gift I never received
    ma asked me what had happened ?
    why tears had drawn a map on my face ?
    I didn't let her read the map
    I said," nothing "
    she told me I was an abomination
    well I can't say she was wrong because I did strangle the last bits of myself and left my bleached body for the vultures to dine on on a platter of my bones
    even they laughed at my clownish face fringed with laughs from the previous year --
    they sprinkled trauma on me ,
    and it burnt through my flesh like sulphuric acid
    so I dug out a hole on earth where flames meet fumes to sear your skin
    where laughing is forbidden
    I screamed into the hole and unnerved hell
    they asked me what ?
    I said ",nothing "
    silence became my mask
    and my mask became my identity
    now every hell I walk into looks like my classroom
    every love letter looks like a threat
    every palm I feel on my cheeks feels menacing like my teacher's
    my cheeks are eveready for red
    my blood is preparing to drown me
    my blood is a mirror of that building
    and there's a lump of flesh squirming in pain
    but the pulchritude in pain is insane
    grumbling about it is inane
    because this pain is brazen
    every bell rings like a chorus of laughter
    every petal is writhing like my heart
    every rose smells faint like my fate
    and now every smile sneers at me

    // Pulchritude in pain//

    #poemsindia#poetsofmeraquill#poet#poetryofmeraquill#poetrycommunity#writerscommunity #writersofmeraquill @writersnetwork @miraquill

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  • tingesofhysteria 6w

    Roads are empty
    We'll fill them up
    with the symphony of our silence
    and sometimes
    with the songs of our arguments
    with fights over who will do the cleaning this weekend
    or who will do the dishes after relishing a dinner of paneer butter masala and naan or who will do this week's laundry
    we will fill it with our giggles

    My hut from when I was a child is dilapidated
    Promise me you will help me rehabilitate it and make it into our dream castle
    we will paint it turquoise with a little less blue
    the floor will be linoleum
    and on the walls we will hang those hideous snapshots we took of eachother to imprison our moments

    My back is aching from caring a history of archived grief , grief sidelined to be felt later
    please let your love be my balm
    and I swear mine will be yours

    The cupboard is a mess
    let's un-mess it
    my clothes will be on the left and the yours on the right and we will get a new cupboard if need be
    we will get an ornate one with inbuilt hangers

    My bookshelf burnt
    into ashes but
    you have the power of resurgence

    Clothes are in tatters but you know how to weave and I know how to stitch
    Please tell me you will weave for me
    And I'll stitch your tatters into something high fashion and amicable like your smile

    // Empty roads//

    #poemsporn#poetrycommunity#poemsindia#poetsofmerquill #lovepoetry #poemsthatmakeyoufeel#writerscommunity#writersofmeraquill #love

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  • tingesofhysteria 7w

    I wrote another poem about you last June
    and told everyone that was the last time I was writing about you
    told the winds I would no longer ask about what you ate
    what you wore
    how you were
    because I'd no longer write about you
    but my mind is a mine of you
    and unlike the writing
    the digging never stops
    you keep coming to dine at my place and I cook your favorite dinner
    and I ask you
    why wasn't I enough?
    why couldn't I suffice ?
    I could be everything to someone someday
    but I wanted to be something to you for one day
    the part of me that knew how to love died the moment we waved goodbye
    my skin froze the moment you stopped touching it
    now it's August and I'm writing about you
    I'm writing about how you like to retire to bed at 11 and on weekends you watch movies late into the night
    then you arouse at 10 and have a breakfast of 2 plain rotis dipped in chai
    you like your chai strong and sweet
    and you leave for college at 11 in the morning
    I'm writing about you because this love is a venom overflowing on to this paper
    unlike the supply of paper
    this love never ceases to exist
    you exist like the hiss of the wind
    like the hum of the fridge when I open it at midnight the way your touch opened my heart
    you exist like the commotion of a traffic jam
    like the blackness in the night
    like the light in the day
    You exist like the green of the grass
    like the blue in the azure skies
    like the dullness of the overcast sky
    you exist like my grief
    and lately my voice speaks only to hum your name
    I exist
    you exist
    in this wist
    - // you exist//

    #poetry #poetsofmeraquill #poetrycommunity #writersofmeraquill #writerscommunity #poemsporn

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  • tingesofhysteria 8w

    ma hums merrily in the kitchen
    her voice is chiseled into the silhoutte of grief

    of disappointment

    once my brother and I got into a fight over who would get to watch TV
    I was 10

    she smacked me across the face
    now I go before her with my nude cheeks and slap them hard

    she says what's wrong with me
    I say nothing

    like a musty stench
    or a stained page
    or rubble from a wreckage

    I'm a
    reminder of

    the day she hit me with a rod
    I imprinted it in my scalp like epigraphy
    I read it everyday

    there's rage in ma's voice
    that's where my rage comes from
    that's what my rage is aimed at me

    I'm a
    reminder of

    the night she made me sleep out at the door and she slept in
    but I did it so you learn

    I did it to teach you values
    I'm the crematorium of your values

    now every poem reeks of trauma
    every phone call looks to be from the devil
    every song feels like the dead
    every dessert tastes bitter

    ma says she's sane
    but we're all insane

    --- we're all insane

    #poetry #poetsofmeraquill #poetrycommunity #writersofmeraquill #writerscommunity

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  • tingesofhysteria 9w

    I'm plunging into a downward spiral like a minuscule meteoroid into a stiff stream .

    There's something in common between the wild oceans and me --
    We never change ,
    We're forever blue

    I'm the synonym for blue

    Innocent like a wobbling infant's call for milk ,
    I drift into the night sleepless

    The milk is venom
    The dead men are on the run
    So I have closed the window
    Drawn the curtains
    But the door is on the latch
    The gate open like my blue lips
    Should the galaxies be bigger than my grief ,I'll smile

    #poetry#poemsporn#lovepoetry#poetsofmeraquill # writersofmeraquill#poetrycommunity#writerscommunity

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  • tingesofhysteria 10w

    i. my bed is paved with a cloudy mattress there a moor is paved with dead bodies

    tonight I slept listening to Fleetwood Mac record
    there children are sleeping listening to a lullaby of gunshots and screams
    they dream of what I have -- peace and a roof I can call home

    ii. soldiers take their last breath there thinking of their beloved ones
    they salute their country before they drift to perpetual sleep

    tonight I took a nice hot shower before Taylor Swift lulled me sleep and there a children are bathed in blood .

    iii . " I'll come back with pride , watch out for me ", Vikram promised his love at the station as they kissed goodbye
    he did come back with pride but wrapped in the Indian flag
    but what matters is he came back

    tonight I wore peach turtle neck and got some pictures clicked and there a father , a mother , a lover released a cry of grief

    iv. Vikram's parents sing lamentations at 2 a.m. but in another country people rejoice because kindness to one is cruelty to another and cruelty to one is kindness to another .

    tonight I dined on biriyani and there children dined on hunger

    v. refugees flee the war-ravged country and sleep underneath the bridge as rain falls like their fate

    tonight I slept on a new mattress
    there a moor is paved with dead bodies

    // War-ravaged//

    #poemsporn#poetry#poetsofmeraquill #poetrycommunity #writerscommunity #writersofmeraquill

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  • tingesofhysteria 13w

    // you can't be an angel again//
    I never realised devils and angels could co-exist in the same person untill I got to know you .
    I heard the devil lusting on my wound-bitten soul in you when I was young ,
    and I saw your ethereal halo hovering in the air like a ring of angelic smoke when you stroked my hair
    I knew you but you never knew what you are --
    you just kept altering between the eye of the devil and the eye of an angel .
    And I kept loving and I kept hating you --
    you taught me it's possible for someone to love and hate a person at the same time .

    We'll never again be our vintage vignettes , and I won't ever smile at you without regretting it
    for some relations are best left bruised
    like the one we have ,
    for you're the stink of my past ,
    for I'm an orphan clinging to the fingers of past .

    You try your hand at redemption but you fail 'cause an angel can become the devil but the devil can't become an angel .
    You can take the sword back from my body but you can't take back the wound .

    #poemsporn #poetsofmeraquill #poetrycommunity#writersnetwork#writerscommunity#poetsofindia#poetry#writersofindia

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  • tingesofhysteria 14w

    // when you love //

    When you love , you don't just love their picture-perfect smile and their eyes attired in jubilation that you get at seeing the shores after years of floating aimlessly , you also love their flaws. Their flaws become the new universal definition of flawless .
    When you love ,you love the way the sky loves its blues . You love the way the raindrops love the parched ground . You love the way autumn loves the fallen fugitive leaves . You love the way a maiden loves her transient youth. You love the way midnights love overthinking. You love the way your teardrops love the curve of your cheeks . You love the way an eye loves an image. You become a songwriter. You become a poet. You become a painter. All in love.

    Love can't be concealed. . It's visible in the quest of this one person burning in your eyes as you enter the hallway . In the dismay on not finding them. Love is visible in the red of your cheeks , not the cliched red of roses ,but the red on ripening lychees in your backyard . It's visible in the clothes you chose to wear just for them . In your sudden fetish for romantic stories on Instagram and those that you put just for them to see .

    Love can be concealed? Try talking to them without fearing this is the last time the two of you get to talk . Try not to talk them -- you will be drowning in a pit of grief .

    Love is audible . It can be heard in your freshly-softened voice while talking to them , in your newly-brewed politeness reserved only for them. In the nervousness in your voice. In your accelerating heartbeat while inching closer to them . In the way you call their name .

    Love can be smelled in the aroma of the cake you specifically baked for them , and in the secretive perfume you spray on you just for them.

    Love is audible and visible and can be smelled ,
    and you try to repress it ?

    #writerscommunity#poetrycommunity#writersofmeraquill #poetsofmeraquill#poetsofmerakee#writersofmerakee#loveofmerakee

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