If I Could I Would

If for once I could loose the grip 

and the night here stays  

a night,

whose moonlit sky you control

I would be able to believe that 

if not the moon, 

the night has surely accepted me. 

– Kritika Vashist 

Got to know that April is the National Poetry Month, to celebrate poetry, and some have decided to write a poem each day. Although I think it’s unfair to writing when you push it, but I also feel that I can take this up for today at least. Share yours too. You may wish to tag me.

PS. Lately, I have been thinking about my blogger friends here. I don’t know why my Reader doesn’t show up posts by people I want to read, but I miss you guys.

Every Night When I Am Bewitched By You

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Every night when I sit to write
a word or two to tell you
about this loneliness I despise
I end up turning the pages
one by one of our memories
as I cry
as I cry
and when my eyes get tired
and I finally to go sleep
I hold you closer than
my own heartbeats
and I see you there with me
in my dream
in my dream
lying next to me
running hands through my hair
singing me a lullaby that
you’re always here
you’re always here

-Kritika Vashist

It Was Dark Again

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It was dark again, outside and inside
I reached out for your hand, trembling
like a little girl who is just about to die
and you played your game of hiding
while I could trace your breaths in silence
and you told me you never found me
when I never hid behind specious curtains

I looked in your eyes and counted ways
you pushed me away saying there aren’t any
turning my solace into an impassable maze
and I still cried that I want you, in fear
but you turned away to close the window
shadowing the moonlight that torched my tear
making space for me to shake, guess, break
for your second opinions, but never to make

The walls I painted for you ached with pain
were they paintings or a meaningless stain?
the tired eyes warned of approaching sorrow
and love asked if there was one more day to borrow
my hands frayed from all the letters they wrote to you
shaking and wanting, only if you had written a few
but it was dark again
and you couldn’t see what I had to bear
but it was dark again
I wonder why you never tried to hear

Every time after I left and before I entered in
I realized how you cleaned debris of the truth
but couldn’t understand how some still stuck my skin
every night before I slept, every day before I was awake
you disappeared into the darkness without saying a word
except that I should drop it all, you have no time to take
but it was dark again, darling
between the time my eyes opened and closed
and I could see the truth clear and stark
it was all in the dark and the darkness exposed
and it was dark again
I was stupid enough to instill your love
to forgive you, to love you with tattered hopes
and you were fool enough to think
I am not familiar with how darkness envelopes.

-Kritika Vashist