Sun moon and me

by September 25, 2019 0 comments

You always tucked my blanket at night
Like gravity pulling everything in downward spiral
But today i freefloat in this gravity at night
Just after you kiss me another long hours of lonely ache
I don’t miss us
I just lament for the dead memories
I constantly blow life into
I cut the moon into pieces like mangoes
And eat the stardust
That tastes much like your absence; bitter
But you haven’t dined on cosmos, love
Because if you did
You would have never asked how do I feel
You see sometimes
Sun loses its limbs to rise on my chest
While somedays i become a moontide
Drenching the ones onshore, turning ships and reaching the sky
But on most days
I am like that puddle of water in your backyard
Where the sparrow swims
I exist just like that
And you knew it all the while
So you took your turn
Digging up the land
To bury the secrets inside
You fear my poetry, love
Perhaps that’s why you paint me invisible in your life
As i scream through words like wolves howling in that forest that grows behind your house
There is a house burning nearby too
And the girls from the burning house
Are never asked about the warmth of the sun
But you,
You paint burns on my mind
With your words so slow
That i feel the scabs of our togetherness bleeding out nostalgia
Every single morning
I still look towards the sun
And make my burning wounds dive in this sea of fire
Just for you to see them
Do you see?
Do you feel the burns yet?
Because if you did
You wouldn’t have tried to coax me into believing
How my wounds were just moons of a planet,
Calm of the night,
Morning and evening star of a sky that belonged to me only
But it is easier running than saving
And you were a good runner, a champion
You have been running ever since from me
So all you do is
Sometimes look at the mirror
And see me, my burnt mind with a reflection that taunts you, haunts you
You paint the mirror black and smile
That’s how you hide your sins of breaking someone
Trust me i am no saint either
So here i write this testimony of guilt
For you to take like a pill
And cry under that shower of yours
And shout to the walls, “am i a bad person?”
Just know this darling,
Answer is yes
Because the bricks of your home are the debris of my existence
For all I know, my existence wants revenge…

– Bharti Bansal

editors note:

A poet scorned, vengeance from verse. Sad, sweet, and severe. – mh clay

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