Do not enter the room
you believe has been
filled with fragrance
of happiness
of chasing each other’s
dreams and ambitions;
when all it has is
biting melancholy
lining the brittle walls,
countless nightmares
seeking my lunacy,
a failed purpose
to come out alive.

Do not twine your arms
around my neck
and stare into my eyes
to unfold the reasons
of the gloominess
veiling their soul;
for my burning tears
will flood you in
perpetual darkness,
my failures
will haunt you
in your lively dreams,
my disappointments
will rupture your faith
in yourself
in love
maybe, everything.

Do not lie down with me
on heavy and blue nights
to plant a kiss
of solace and wanting
unaware of
the venomous words
inked on my hands
designed in my mind
destroying the peace,
your night arrives with
and howling in your
silent heart.

I am a secret
Do not forget me
as someone
who is her own curse.

– Kritika Vashist


34 thoughts on “Curse

  1. What can I say about this like I am smitten totally. .
    This post was a direct invasion to my sanctuary and I am just begotten in its embrace! !!
    Long story short your fan 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. An interesting, albeit “dark” piece. The picture was most appropriate but, you really did not need it as the writings explain themselves extremely well. The difficulty I have is trying to separate your imagination from your inner core beliefs. I do not think that you were writing about yourself however, there is a part of you which could well be influencing these pieces and (just being me!), I like to try and establish where that line is which separates Kritika from her imagination. Keep writing! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • Colin, you do read between the lines 🙂
      You saying that words were better than the picture makes me so happy.
      I’d just say that yes, something influenced me that I wrote these words. I’d keep creating mysteries! 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  3. The way the tone and mood changes in the middle of every stanza! Marvelous! Though I am not sure I got what you intended but does it talk about the superficial liking that we develop for something or someone without really knowing the thing or the one?

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I was just scrolling by the page, and this poem made me stop, as if it were calling me out, and the chills it lend were earlier felt while I was reading Ariel by Sylvia Plath. Keep up the good work !

    Liked by 1 person

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