Love Me

Hey! So, for a very very long time I had been longing to create a poem, Well, I had no Muse, but my passion to write was stronger than my luck of having one… so I have mind-created this whole poem. And I hope you like it. =)

So what if I wrote you a poem and never tell you about it?

Cuz pretty-heart, that’s what I plan to do,

I want you to be my Muse and paint you down in writing,

And I wonder how hard shall it be to do.

They told us on the News, Tonight there’s no Moon out in the sea,

The clouds are spread out like the blanket you must be using to sleep,

How shall they navigate, when the merchants can’t see the stars,

The tide is high and the winds are stronger,

Do you think the shore will witness them kiss their partners?

Doesn’t this make Love interesting? The danger is romantic.

The wait makes it worth it, and the fear of losing – makes you appreciate it.

You give me the same type of rapturous delights,

That I sought for too long but could never find,

You give me the inner-peace and silently steal away my afflictions,

It’s like I believe u and I can trust u, and with you -

I don’t have to worry about waking up to a man’s dreadful indifference.

I wonder what air you breathed when you grew up,

That has made you a man of words,

Cause I have met too many before

And they only taught me to expect worse.

I can hardly keep my calm around you

And you take no time to drive me wild

And you see me for who I am and not the masks and covers I try.,

You told me the other night, when we lay in the garden watching stars

And the extra  tides-water drizzled on us, like magic from above,

“Babe, I can tell this Courage mask is fake, I can tell you are scared”

I said – “I know what Affection is meant for,   to liberate,

But rather it comes along with memories of pleasure,

past regrets, passion & old pain.

I would never hurt you but I don’t wanna hold new pair of hands again.”

And you said

“Free fall.

Love me with the love you couldn’t  put to use,

Love me with the remainder of the love you had to lose,

Love me like you are mad at me, Love me like you love me,

Love me till you realize that there’s nothing happier than to love me.

Love me with the passion of a lover meeting his love after 365 days,

Love me with the trust and faith of a thousand saints,

Love me with the enthusiasm of a World Record winner,

Love me with the undiscovered pleasures of a sinner,

Love me like you’ve never loved before in your life,

Love me like I’m forever yours and let me love you like u r mine.”

The Real Life

The Real life

In Real Life , you don’t let go of people as easily and effortlessly as the fairy tales teach you. Or as letting go of a balloon on a crowded luxury street, where you don’t even notice the balloon you just let out.

In Real Life, it’s much harder, more painful and more mind-fucking. It takes away more sleep, gives more paranoia and makes you imagine worse things than you could be doing on drugs(if you are like me, a paranoid druggie). 

Then you yell at that someone, if things are still fine and he calls you or takes your calls.. but like, in most of the cases, you text them abusive stuff and then they text you back a mere “grow up” or similar. And it infuriates you and then you begin contemplating, and begin regretting, regretting him more than the texts you sent, and the abusive language more than ever giving him a chance when you never even found him close to attractive.. and then you sit up and think – I thought I was better than that, I thought I would let go gracefully, I am not immature, how dare he call me that.

And then these things run on loops in your head, over and over again… till its 5am.. and you are frustrated to not be able to sleep, and whilst all this, he is fucking her, or she is fucking him, or they are dead asleep or texting each other or there is a new prey…. Why am I even thinking all this, I know I don’t care.
Then you keep having these make-believe situations in your head of the future, of the surprise run-ins, and it never fucking ends. And you don't wanna think of that old part of your life anymore, but here you can't stop. You regret even letting it be a part of you for as long as you did, but you can't still stop thinking..

And insomnia, gifted to you… this is what happens in Real Life. In the Real Life, there are no gracefully, with poise, letting gos. We are humans, if we get hurt – we abuse, if we get hurt intentionally, we hurt them back. Even if I come from the Land of Gandhi, I am not Gandhi, that is why there was only one, Mahatma!

In the Real Life, you never receive flowers, or texts or incessant phone calls till your heart melts, no guy runs after you when you walk away.

In Real life, boys don’t come running back to you in the middle of the night, don’t sneak in through your window or buy you chocolates or sing you songs or hold your hands when you are mad at them, they don’t pick you up and scare you till you start laughing and forget whatever made you mad.

In Real life, They just leave and never say a word to you again.
And you have to make that choice to let go and never look back.