My veins all red,
My heart’s so torn.
My veins all red,
My heart’s so torn.
I forgive you for the mess you’ve caused.
I forgive you for keeping me in a haux.
I forgive you for leaving me in the dark.
I forgive you from miles apart.
I forgive you for pushing me away.
I forgive you for not making me stay.
I forgive you for making my soul mourn.
I forgive you for making my heart torn.
I forgive you for the betrayal.
I forgive you for not staying loyal.
I forgive you for leaving your scars.
I forgive you for imprinting your marks.
I forgive you for the delayed replies.
I forgive you for those little white lies.
I forgive you for those useless fights.
I forgive you for the sleepless nights.
I forgive you, I swear.
I forgive you, my tears say.
I forgive you, although you’ve never apologized.
I forgive you, my heart lies.
In this little world where everything’s expensive, my heart was available for free; unused, full of feelings, full of emotions.
And yes, you took it all by yourself. I expected you to give me yours but you left me bare, all bare.
But for all I could have ever known was that I was gonna get it back one day. All used, all shattered, all torn.
My heart was torn, so you give it back. Hers wasn’t, so you took it instead and kept it all by yourself. But in the midst of all this, it wasn’t just my heart I realized that I was regretful of giving you. It was more of my trust. My trust, not in you though. But in me. It had been my faith in myself that had compelled me to give you my heart. Now it lies here, all shattered and ruined.
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.
We may not be a thing anymore. But I will assure that your memories stay in my poetry.
My mom kept asking me what happened to me the other day. I did not have the guts to mention your name.
I wonder if you stay awake at midnight too. Remembering me. Regretting me.
You used to be my only one. I used to be only one of them. I still remember.
Missing you, I feel was like my duty. But wanting you was my passion.
I wonder what made me like you in the first place. Just like what made you leave me in the last.
There was a time I used to write for you. Now I kinda write about you.
Roses are flawed.
Violets are blemished.
The people I loved and cared for,
Are the one that actually vanished.
© Khushi Suneja
Wake me up, when we’re done.
No longer in this war that we earlier begun.
Wake me up, as this gets over.
No one bitter; just love leftover.
Wake me up, as soon as we progress.
When we get up, get over this mess.
Wake me up, as we finish it for ever.
Even if we die in attempts to endeavour.
Wake me up, when I no longer see them dead.
All good, as we move ahead.
Wake me up, when everythin’s alright.
Back in shape, as we give up the fight.
Wake me up, as my kid arrives.
My wife no longer praying that I survive.
Wake me up, when we finally act sane.
Not the monsters, that suck on brains.
Wake me up, when everyone’s fine.
Celebrating the win, chucking on wine.
Wake me up, when we’re no longer in pain.
As the war, dies again.
Wake me up, when we all end up alive.
As through the situation, we soon contrive.
Wake me up, as we unite.
And if we reach back our homes tonight.
I have never been loved.
Why do you feel so? Replied the boy.
I don’t have a hand to hold this fall. With the leaves that are shedding, shed my self confidence and hope. No one to wipe my tears and say that I’m pretty. Look me into the eyes with utmost love, embrace my flaws and promise to love me till the next fall and many more. No one. None.
But what if you’re not able to see the love through your despairing eyes?
Am I really that unfortunate to not sense the love that exists? Am I really that flawed to not notice the one who loves(me)?
Not unfortunate, my love. Just despaired. He thought.
Look at those unfortunate trees, shedding the leaves with teary eyes but with the hope that they’ll retreat the next spring.
Well I have no one to hope for to come back. No one to say goodbye to, with the hope that they’ll come back.
The one who actually loves, will never leave, Susan. You wouldn’t ever have any goodbyes to give, a kiss to spare, or a hand to wave. Believe me. He’ll stay. All you have to do is remain like a tree, waiting for your hope and love to grow back like the leaves. Said the boy to the girl he loved.
Well, will you?
Will I what?
Will you stay?
Yes, had I loved you. He said, with a voice almost cracking, sweaty palms and teary eyes.
She cried a little and he smiled.
As he left for Vietnam, he waved at her as she waved back and he turned his head. She waved while muttering a love you behind his back.
As he muttered a love you too.
And so she waited like a tree in the fall, seeing her favourite flower gloom, waiting for the spring to come and bring him along.