Skip to main content

Because you are addicted to Gold Flake and I am addicted to you.

Like that cigarette slowly burning between your fingers, I burn too. Because you are addicted to Gold Flake and I am addicted to you. The only difference - you can buy your addiction - but I can't win over you in a million years. The only similarity - you crush both cigarette butts and my hopes multiple times a day under your feet. You are one cruel b*****d.

Oh man, why I still love you so very much? I think about that a lot sober. There has to be a reason for this unwavering, almost God-like devotion towards you. For the life of me, I can't find an answer to that question.

I don't know why I want to walk barefoot on a black beach with you. Watch the sunset - and - watch your features turn into a beautiful silhouette. As the evening would sink into darkness and we will lay on the beach to watch the stars and crescent moon - I want to smell the salty ocean on your skin. Then when you will try to light that f*****g Goldflake and put it between your lips, I will throw it away and dive into your mouth with my tongue. I will flow boundlessly into you like a river flows into the ocean. I will swim in you. I will dive in you. I will drown in you. Then with my taste on your breath, I want to hear my name from your mouth. Just one time. One f*****g time. Please.

I don't care about 'I love yous.' Never have. Never will. I want an evening with you. Something I can call mine. When I will be 60 and I will sit on a couch on a lonely evening, I will wrap myself in the memory of that evening to keep myself warm. Give me that. Not a lifelong commitment. Just a hot as f**k memory.

I go back and forth in my head. I think about you in the empty pockets of time I have in my busy day. I'm f*****g addicted to you.

Damn, who says smoking is injurious to health? Bloody hell, you are!

P. S. On #WorldPoetryDay, I had to write something.

Comments

Post a Comment

Bricks, brickbats, applause - say it in comments!

Popular posts from this blog

Being Human

Under the roof of winter, Latches of my door open without making a sound. It's cold out there, Someone lost his ground. My soul shivers, Not that I'm cold. Someone from my land, Sleeps under the bridge while dreaming of gold. How can I... tuck myself in the quilt? When the winter storm is blowing, Hopes they have built. I have to get up, Do something... Before I start questioning who am I? And, they start saying...'Humanity dies.' Let's work out something, Take a resolution. Walk across all kinds of bridges, And, just be human... From centuries people are migrating for work or for better opportunities. But, not everyone has a smooth sailing...some live under miserable conditions. Most heart wrenching fact is nobody helps them, not even people from their own countries. I know, everybody is busy chasing the bigger purpose of life. But don't you think we should help people in need? Let's try to be better human being...

I Am Not Alone

Last year blessed me, He walked silently into my life. It was Love, That took me in its stride. One evening we walked holding hands, Then, I told him what I felt in heart. He said we were one soul, Who were living in parts. To bring the parts together, We fought with the world and tied the knot. Being one soul, Gave life a whole new spot. Chirping birds, floating clouds, Nature conspired for us. Always swimming against the tide, Life was in an adrenaline rush. This year cursed me, He walked silently out of my life. It was Death, That took him in its stride.       Yesterday his soul was saying, Fearing memories will fade, he can’t move on. He will stay and admire me, Standing always by my side from dusk to dawn. Image Source - Here

Wailing Woes

On her frail shoulders, the threads of Pashmina talk. Of a valley, of heaven, of a moonlit night. Demure, she froze amidst the discordant noise, Charred bodies around her, her flesh and blood died. On moonlit nights, hence she walks barefoot on the snow, Suffering within and out, I can listen, what her silence speaks out loud. Deranged, Demented, She drags her body around, Unaware, Listless, what she has lost can never be found. I call her, whenever she passes by me, I have been piling up sorrows as debris. Come! My child Let me hear your pain, Let me soothe your wounds, Let me jostle your soul, So you shed a tear. I know your pain, I have done all this myself, And I have been there. This poem narrates the sufferings of women who lost their families in Kashmir Valley. *Disclaimer - Title is inspired by  Sonnet 30  of Shakespeare.