Poems and Proses\\k.s

I like poems and proses,
Violets and roses,
Beautiful sad chants
From the Land of Mosses.

I like waterfalls and valleys,
Aisles and alleys,
The places of ogres,
And adventures in galleys.

I like daylight and mornings,
Coffee in evenings,
Little birdies chirping
With my view adorning.

I like the blues,
I like the hues,
Everything red,
You got clues.

I like dancing in silence,
In everyone’s absence.
Walking in darkness,
Waiting for acceptance.

I like chocolates with my meals,
Waffles with cereals,
Everything odd,
Nothing so real.

I like the odds,
I like everything strange,
I like the weirdness,
I don’t like to change.

© Khushi Suneja

Roses are deaf\\k.s

Roses are deaf,

Violets blind.

My heart’s bereft.

Our fates interwined.

© Khushi Suneja

Midnight Reminiscing\\k.s

Night 1,

I knew sitting alone at the corner of my room at midnight in dim lights would do me no good. Nor would thinking about you would. But it would give me enough reasons to write about the pain. The pain given by you.

Night 12,

We may not be a thing anymore. But I will assure that your memories stay in my poetry.

Night 25,

My mom kept asking me what happened to me the other day. I did not have the guts to mention your name.

Night 37,

I wonder if you stay awake at midnight too. Remembering me. Regretting me.

Night 59,

You used to be my only one. I used to be only one of them. I still remember.

Night 73,

Missing you, I feel was like my duty. But wanting you was my passion.

Night 82,

I wonder what made me like you in the first place. Just like what made you leave me in the last.

Night 100,

There was a time I used to write for you. Now I kinda write about you.

©Khushi Suneja

To The One Within \\k.s

Dear self,

I know you’re trying your hardest to be at your best. Behind the smile that you fake everyday, I can see the pain. I can see the pain within your gorgeous eyes that lie behind those big frame glasses. I can hear your soul cry.

Cry, cry.

I can feel your body get numb each time you see yourself in the mirror. Wondering, whether there’ll ever come a time when you’ll look a little better. I can see you curse under your breath each time you get a glimpse. I don’t blame you. I was never impressed by what I saw in the mirror either.

I can feel you getting nauseated each time you get reminded of your past. Each time someone mentions it, you feel like dying, I know. I can feel it too. Recalling everything, makes you cry.

Cry, cry.

I know pretty girl, what’s going inside of you.

Love,

Self.

© Khushi Suneja