The inside

Throw down your guns,
toss aside every bullet.
She doesn’t need your holes,
she feels hollow already.

Get rid of every sharp thing,
you’ve used at her.
She’s looking for them now,
she wants to slit her wrists.

All your words strtuck her,
in her heart like lightning.
They were like thunder,
to the scared girl inside.

Those flaws you saw on her skin,
they’re reflections of your own.
She’s always been flawless,
she thinks otherwise, though.

Everything you said or did,
might not have been visible to your eyes.
She knows she’s not okay,
she has scars on the inside of her.

Instinct

I looked at him,
into his eyes.
I rarely ever did,
but I couldn’t control it.
Maybe it was instinct.

I helped him get ready,
I had lovingly picked out
his clothes for the evening,
down to his tie and cuff-links.
Maybe it was instinct.

I watched him gel his hair,
tie his shoelaces,
and pull on his coat
over a crisp, white shirt.
Maybe it was instinct.

I shut the door afterhim,
almost immediately wanting him to return.
A knock on the door
told me he did.
Maybe it was instinct.

He pocketed his phone,
said he forgot something, and with a smile,
hugged me and dropped a kiss on my head,
and then he left.
Maybe it was instinct.

I sat on the edge of my chair,
fidgeted with my clothes.
I got up to do some work,
then sat back down.
Maybe it was instinct.

I picked up my phone,
sent him a message,
“hey honey, come back soon,
I’d love to be by your side today.”
Maybe it was instinct.

Half an hour later,
he called me.
“I’ll be home in a couple of hours,
hang tight, don’t worry.”
Maybe it was instinct.

“Alright, but i don’t know why,
something seems off today.”
Then i knew it.
I heard it, loud and clear.
Maybe it was instinct.

“Maa” he whispered,
as soon as i heard the shot.
He moaned, fell,
And I did too.
Maybe it was instinct.

Then I pictured it,
His beautiful face filled with agony,
his white shirt soaked red.
his life slipping away from him.
Maybe it was instinct.

The day that I once cherished,
Now had a different reason
to be etched in my mind forever,
with me till I died, like him.
Maybe it was instinct.

It was his birthday,
the happiest day of his life,
now the saddest of mine.
He was gone, I was empty.
Maybe it was instinct.

~~~~

Thousands of mothers lose their children to terrorism, crime and other ruthless murderers. This was a brief story of a boy going out to celebrate his birthday with his friends, but his mother’s instinct warned her that something could go wrong. Like several children who were gunned down by terrorists in restaurants in Indian metropolitan cities like Bangalore and Mumbai IRL, he too was killed at the venue. And all his mother could to was to hear her child’s life slowly slip away from him, breath by breath.

Spellbound

Frayed sleeves
of my hoodie,
hanging off
my limp arms.

I’m just staring,
at something marvelous,
and he’s looking
back at me.

And then,
he spoke to me
and his voice
left me mesmerized.

Then he smiled,
and i was blinded
by the brightness
of that million watt beam.

It took me a while
to regain my senses,
so i could appreciate
the wonder in front of me.

I stammered,
and I stumbled,
but I managed a smile
in his direction.

What could i
be expected to do,
I was so helplessly
spellbound.

 

3:00 a.m.

it’s 3:00 a.m,
we’re fighting over chat.
There’s a movie in the background,
no heed to that.

You’re hurt,
I’m upset.
It’s all gone wrong,
my pillow is wet.

It’s one of those days,
we don’t know what to do.
I’m hoping it’ll work out,
can’t really lose you.

I’ve messed up,
you’re done with me,
But please,don’t give up,
I think it’s meant to be.

not another care in the world,
not another sound to be heard.
don’t worry about us,
there isn’t a third.

Forget those times,
there’s nothing about them.
For now, I know that
I’m losing me a gem.

You’re slowly slipping away,
into the darkness around.
There’s a confidence in you,
bold, newly found.

No, don’t go,
it’s 3:00 a.m.
but you’re the one I think of
even at 3:00 p.m.

“Get lost”,
you say.
But I’m too clingy,
And it’s already day.

It’s gone too far,
I’m ready to give up.
Sitting up in my bed,
I drink some water from my cup.

Suddenly, it’s all good,
we’re both tired,
but everything’s alright,
and now, together we’re wired.

 

The Jacket

 

A jacket.
Brown, beautiful.
his favourite,
hers too.

He wore it
every single day
except the times
when she did

She loved his feeling,
it was always there.
He found her scent
creeping into the jacket.

Then she had gone away,
and only he wore it.
She still loved that jacket,
but she couldn’t wear it.

She probably wouldn’t come back now,
yet he coldn’t ever replace her.
He still wore his favourite jacket,
but his favourite human was gone.

Keep Me

When I turn right,
I see signs of you,
Things that you loved,
Things you probably still keep.

When I turn left,
I see my own reflection,
I think you loved me,
but it hurt you to keep me.

Grey

My nails are painted grey,
It’s the only color I want
and the only one I feel,
even black is too colorful now

Grey is how my life feels,
you were like a rainbow,
tossing your colors for everyone to see,
but now, not for me.

The sky is filled with grey clouds,
and the rain seems soothing,
but nothing can covber up
for your voice or touch.

Everything is grey.
The dullest shade of grey.
I wish you’d come back.
I miss you and all your color.

Bleed

You made me bleed.
Ripped out my heart,
shred it to bits,
left it, left me.

You made me bleed,
through the deep cuts
that you made
inside of me.

You made me bleed,
and now I’m dying
on the inside,
but you wouldn’t know.

You made me bleed
you broke me, and now
no stitches or staples
can ever put me back together.

Dark

I shut the door,
didn’t want to turn on the lights,
didn’t want to take another step,
didn’t want to move an inch.

I wanted nothing more
than a shoulder to cry on,
than a hand to steady me,
than a pair of arms to embrace me.

Now I just want to sit
and cry until I can’t anymore,
and lie until I can’t get up,
and die until I’m just a body.

I thought we could be us,
until I realised that the dark wasn’t momentary,
until I knew I couldn’t anymore,
until I saw you give up.

And all I have now,
is a dark room,
where I’m alone
with my dark thoughts.

RED

Those red nails

a red pen

a bunch of scribbles

all in her hand.

A red notebook

some red nail paint

a cluttered table

and her sitting at it.

His red cased phone

red lipstick stains on his shirt

neither of them hers

and his lopsided grin.

Her red lips

a red heart

a texted argument

her broken heart.

A red blade

red drops of blood

a limp hand

and a free soul.