seems backspace is my love
language and I'm becoming
fluent at it, I know.
I overthink to reject the
things I feel about you.
sometimes I send,
then delete and deny to
achieve what, I don't know.
I've buried your pics and
pics related to you in a
vague telegram group.
I visit it now and then-
I pretend to hide something
from myself but can I
outrun my impulse?
I freaking don't know.
I look in the mirror and stare
into the abyss of my eyes.
I feel cute and wanna smile.
but I stop before my lips
can give it away.
I know you're the reason
for this and I don't want
to say it aloud.
Ohh! is this how I look when
I pretend to be in love?
The gleam in the eyes
I bury with loud laugh.
words I bite and swallow
with sarcasm at my hand.
I wonder if I have spilled
any hints.
But, did anything flutter its
wings to reach you before
I could clip those cuties?
I must say, it's difficult to
kill a beautiful feeling.
But I try.
But no matter how many
stars I crush and the flowers
I manage to trample.
the stardust sticks and
fragrance lingers.
I borrow it all to weave
it all with my unspoken words.
some of it becomes what
they call as poetry,
and I humbly slip into the
humble arrogance of
being a sorted poet.