I would rather be a Sad Song

When you left me. After that evening. I've wasted myself on god knows how many sad songs. And the unceremonious goodbye butchered days that came after.

It's funny how the dusk I loved was eaten away by the dark. And there wasn't a single reason left to conjure some light. Cool breeze doesn't matter. Rain is a stab wound now.

I deleted the old playlist you know. The Linkin Park, Breaking Benjamin, and Radiohead are all gone. Even I've started writing inspirations poems. No fun there though.  

But yeah, this war I've waged on myself is gonna end soon. All these wounds will heal and I'll endure all this pain to rejuvenate my rage.

A new Radiohead album is around the corner soon and will pen down a poem that flies off my mind. 

Till then, this is me. With a mask and a pretentious playlist.

Thank you tea

It's lockdown and you're home. No worries. No hurry. Everything is just slow and lazy. Life's so cozy that the worst thing that can happen to you is a bad cup of tea.

You just have a tight lunch. You give your life to the couch. There's sweat and heat, just like the shade of sadness in your life. Yet a happy nap conquers the world for you.

Then it rains in the evening. Your drowsy senses are elated and looks like there's nothing more to ask from life. And then your mom brings you a cup of tea.

You take a sip and it's just perfect. You breath out few moments like time's your slave. Then you silently thank Chinese for finding tea. Maybe for Corona too. 

Claustrophobia

An year has passed

Without the rains.

And to these stray

Thoughts of mine-

I Haven't been able to 

Find any words.

Voicelessly smothered,

I feel entrapped.

Dr. Freud, is this 

Claustrophobia? 

Pain

Sometimes,

Wanna hurt myself.

Feel the pain,

For the sake of it.

It's like,

Too much of light.

And all you want is

Some gloom 

For a hide out. 

Ignoring

The text I've sent her

Has been marked blue.

It's been quite a while,

I don't think she has 

Gone to the loo...

The Emojis in the chats

Have been fading too.

Clearly she's ignoring.

I don't know what to do. 

You must be a fool to think

She's busy these days.

Bro! It's all about priorities.

Says my friend Poo.

I keep wondering,

About the shit like

To be or not be. And if

Thats how fate wants to woe,

I'll accept that too.

Again!

A mundane thought

Has stretched itself

Into a poem.

A part of me has

Grown wings and

Has set itself aflight.

To settle myself

With a sad song.

The clock has reset.

And 

She's all over.

Again!