Undo it all

Poetry, Writer life

I want to untext you.
All the late night talks,
Chatting till 4 am,
I want to undo it all.

I want to unsee you.
Those cute snaps you send,
That I hold close to my chest,
I want to undo it all.
 
I want to unknow you.
All the time we spent,
Getting know each other,
I want to undo it all.

I want to unkiss you.
The butterflies in my tummy,
As I lost myself to you,
I want to undo it all.
 
I want to unlove you.
The warmth in my chest,
Every time I think of you,
I want to undo it all.

I want to unmiss you.
The flashes of your memories,
As icy cold daggers pierce my heart,
I want to undo it all.
 
I want to unhear you.
All your soothing words and fake promises,
Your laughter; music to my ears,
I want to undo it all.
 
Untext you, unhear you,
Unsee you, unknow you,
Unmiss you, unkiss you,
Unlove you….

I wish I could undo it all.
Every single moment we had.
But if I had a choice,
I’d choose to hold you close.

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The Ghosting Cycle

Featured image by:  freestocks.org from Pexels

Men don’t cry

Poetry, Writer life

Son fell and scrapped his knee,
Bawling his eyes out, he called his daddy.
Daddy wanted to kiss the boo-boos away,
But ‘boy’s don’t cry,‘ is what daddy said. 
After all, that’s what he was taught,
Men are to be strong and emotionless. 

Sick wife struggled cooking for the family,
She wished her husband would give her a hand.
Husband’s heart broke looking at his wife,
But all he did was sat and stared.
After all, that’s what he was taught,
Men don’t do the household chores. 

Daughter wanted a bicycle,
Broke father couldn’t afford one.
Heavy-heartedly he got her a Barbie doll,
But ‘girls don’t ride‘ is what he said.
After all, that’s what he was taught,
Men can’t be vulnerable.

Sister got her heart broken,
Poured her heart out to her brother.
His brotherly heart broke too,
But ‘why were you involved with him‘ was what he said.
After all, that’s what he was taught,
Men are to be Stern and tough. 

He hated the way he behaved.
Each day his heart ached,
To be there for his loved ones, he craved.
But he just watched their pain.
After all, that’s what he was taught.
But wasn’t he a human too?

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Slut

Featured image by: Foundry Co from Pixabay

Slut

Poetry, Writer life

In fairy tales she lived,
Magic, she chased
She was just a girl,
Who refused to grow up.  

Love was pious
Saved it, for her perfect one
Someone meant just for her
Someone she was meant for.  

Naive little girl
She fell in love.
She was all his
And he was only her.

Only to be deserted by her beloved
Her fragile heart, broken to pieces
She cried for days and questioned faith
Pretty little girl, she had to move on.

It’s wasn’t easy for her,
To once again trust or believe,
But she convinced herself,
To believe in fairy tales once again.

Then came an angle,
Who swooped her off her feet
Mended her broken her
Reignited the magic within.

Alas! But who would have suspected
Their castle would burn to ashes.
Hating each other, they parted ways
Pretty little girl, broken once again.

Then the cycle began
She fell in love, fell out of love
Until she was tired of it
Until there was no magic in it.

With no faith in love
She resorted to meaningless fling
Tried not to get attached
To protect her fragile heart.

That’s how she got a new reputation,
Pretty naive girl turned to slut!
But she has a question in her mind
Why are men never called that name?!

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A woman must be…

Featured image by: Meg on Unsplash

A Woman Must Be…

Poetry, Writer life

Pure,’ they say,
A woman must be pure.’
Untouched by any other man,
That’s reserved only for her husband. 

Skilled,’ they say,
A woman must be skilled.’
An expert in all household chores,
Prefect to move into her husband’s home. 

Soft,’ they say,
A woman must be soft.
Never voicing a word of objection,
Quiet and humble, even when she’s trampled.

Pretty,’ they say,
A woman must be pretty.
Put on all the make-up in the world,
Conceal the blemishes, scars, the true beauty. 

Employed,’ they say,
A woman must be employed.’
Not draining a man’s income,
But earn lesser, you can’t injure a man’s ego.

Independent,’ they say,
A woman must be independent.’
But the whole house can be dependent on her,
Be it office or home, she has to excel at both. 

Don’t give a damn,’ I say,
A woman must be who she wants to be.’
Spread your wings, chase you dreams,
You write your own destiny! 

Image by LwcyD from Pixabay

To Mr. Ghoster

Article, letters, Writer life

Heyy,

You hopped into my life out of thin air, like rainbow without rain in a sunny day. And like any normal person, I blinked, not once but twice, thrice and so many more times I lost count. But there you were, unmoved with a vow to be there. I’ve seen you all through my life, but getting romantically involved with you wasn’t there in my thoughts. Not even in my wildest dream. You were just there, a familiar stranger always in my sight, but never in my life. And that was great, you are a great stranger.

But we talked, we went on and on. Almost all day and night, it was fun and I loved it. Little did I know, I’d be addicted to it. I had long lost my hopes for forever and always, my broken heart saw a little glimmer with ‘one day at time’ with you. It was nice, until I realised my own heart had tricked my mind. Cause when I said ‘one day at a time’ I didn’t mean only one day. I meant ‘one day at a time for the rest of our life.’ It was crazy when I realised it cause I had long erased those words and hopes for it from my mind. Well, at least I had tried. A futile effort, to save myself from another heartbreak.

No no, you didn’t break my heart. I wouldn’t let you. So when you came up with lamest of excuse I believed it. You said you have a weak internet. Okay, but a weak internet and being super busy may stop you from replying fast, or even within a day. But days went on and I waited. I waited and waited, to the point it almost broke my heart to keep waiting. You told me not to wait, but how could I not, I was addicted to you. You were always on my mind, and I needed to get you out of it. Cause, your thought, the need to talk to you drove me insane.  I kept checking my inbox, hoping to see you reply. You were on the top my mind, and top of inbox; haunting me with your silence.

So, I did the only logical think I could think of. I pushed you down. The old friends I didn’t talk to, families I lost contact with, and all the people I lost touch with, they all crawled up on my inbox as I pushed you down. It was beautiful getting in touch once again, solved a conflict with a school best friend, got to know the interesting deets about my cousins’ lives that I had no time for before. Well, it was amazing.

But, alas! While I pushed you down on my inbox, I still couldn’t push you down in my mind. So, I did the only thing that has always kept me sane. I wrote. And now that I’m a lot calmed down, I’ll continue writing, but the next thing I’m writing would be stories I left incomplete, not letter to you or poems about you. This is how I choose to stop your thoughts invading my mind.

And next time you hop to the top of my inbox, I won’t reply. Cause then, I wouldn’t have to wait for you to reply back. It’s a promise I’m making to the sanity of my mind, I won’t let you drive me insane again. I won’t waste even a single alphabet texting you, won’t lend you even the tiniest place in my mind.

Cause babe, I like you a lot, but I like being in control of my mind a lot more.

 Love,

A girl who is crazy about you! 

Photo by Dejan Zakic on Unsplash

The Ghosting Cycle

Poetry, Writer life

From the moment I wake up in the morning

Till the time I drift into slumber at night

There’s one thing I want to tell you

‘I hate you!’

While I go on with my day

One eye, always on the phone

Even when I know, you ain’t gonna reply

I hate you!

Months goes without a single text from you

And I know you ghosted me

Yet I keep waiting for you

I so damn hate you!

For conquering my mind,

For disappearing without goodbye,

For not being here with me,

I hate you!

And as I went on hating you

Missing you, thinking about you

One day I didn’t hate you anymore

You weren’t ruling my mind anymore.

Then out of the blue,

As if you didn’t disappear without an adieu

You’re back with your silly little, ‘Hi.’

Unable to resist I reply.

Much to my distaste,

You bring the widest smile on my face.

Only to be ghosted again,

Hating you once again.

Yet you come back with your shameless, ‘Hi’

And I lose my mind once again

The moments we had swirling in my mind

Why do this to myself?