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3 years ago
Sep 16, 2011
To my mind,
I feel as if lately,
We haven't been in touch.
My heart whispers enticing words to me.
Words that I secretly want to hear,
But of course, you would know that.
Seductive whispers. You would oppose.
You would warn me against the temptation of succumbing to it.
But I have fallen into its alluring chasm,
And am unwilling to climb out. You must save me.
Mind,
I am overcome with emotions
That, like rivers nourished by the recent monsoons
Gush through my blood, saturated with love,
And with hate and with fear and with presumptuous pomposity.
Each emotion is the string of a marionette;
I pulls me in one direction, and then tugs me to the next.
Crooning with love. Simmering with anger. Drowning in hate.
You, who like a referee
Was supposed to monitor this change in entropy,
Have suddenly fled. The maps are blank and my GPS fails.
I searched in the bushes, under the bed, behind the curtains for you
Before these emotions could win their tug of war
And drag me to a corner to harass me senselessly.
If you don't return,
I will surely run mad. Maddened by the love I feel
When I imagine those wholesome faces,
Maddened by the stabbing needles of sorrow
That I wish could be a Chinese masseur skilled with acupuncture.
And crazed by the anger
That calls upon my blood to boil as if my organs were cooking.
Mind,
I need you to return.
I need you to scold my senseless heart with your logic,
And to preserve my identity before I lose it
To the separate entity that is attempting to beat itself out of my chest.
Jun 26, 2011
Advice to Myself
0 comments These are the terribly insignificant musings of Aishwarya Nagar at 12:06 AM
She may tell you that she hates you
And it may lance the fullness of your heart
But she doesn't know what hate really is,
Or what is life is like when love does depart.
She may rant incessantly, for hours, for days,
But don't listen to it, don't try to understand it-
If her mind is riddled with unsolvable problems
Stay quiet until she finds the inner peace to quit.
Her eyes are clouded with rage, but she only sees red
Beyond the colour, there is no reason she can derive,
And if she finds the occasional reason in her head,
It's lack of practicality, for her, is hard to view live.
So tell yourself, as young as you are,
That she's a fragile ball of emotion
And let silence be her comfort,
Let your empathy set her smile in motion.
;;
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