Bad Poetry

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Oh damn.
We just laughed and we laughed.
Until we were bored of typing 😀 smileys,
and we started to fight.
Things started going down the drain
and my brain too started walking drunk,
you know going left and right.
I know this is bad poetry.
But haha, I hope,
at least if you would’ve seen it,
it would’ve made you laugh.
I am laughing, too.
But you have me blocked.
Things really shut down
between all those laughter riots
and our amateur jamming sessions,
didn’t they?
Why then, don’t I still have the heart
to erase those .wmv’s we recorded?
Maybe because, like day after night
and night after day,
after you left,
my beautiful mind has gone just haywire.
Stuck there, and my day still dawns at dusk.
So extreme, they were,
our insane sciencey discussions,
the earth stopped upon its axis,
that glazed winter froze,
the minute you were gone,
and life is like a glass ball,
filled with gel and glitters,inside which
the Princess now dances alone
amongst twirling magnificent snow flakes.
All night long.

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Six Months Ago

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Running around,
Screaming around <in my head>
With no questions to ask,
And all pain and guilt.

<Six months ago> You made me wipe away my tears,
<Six months ago> You had me smiling again,
<Six months ago> You had me listening to metal!
<Six months ago> You taught me to love…oo oo ooooo….

Love, love, love, <love, love, love, love, love>
Some mystery it is. <How it happened>
You’d know it all better. <Sure you do>
It’s easy to mistake,
But then it never is.

<Six months ago> It all changed.
<Six months ago> You changed it for me.
<Six months ago> You, you, you happened.
<Six months ago> And your cycle became my eternity.

Words, little words, ran out of mind. <my my, my, my, my>
Some mystery that is. <How it happened>
You’d know it all better. <Sure you do>
It’s easy to mistake.
But then is it?

I plead guilty, <I am I know>
But like all crimes, punish me. <Oh, don’t leave me alone>
You cut me off, like I’m made of paper.
You turned away, like it’ll undo the last six months.

<Six months ago> You spoke a spell, <or something like that>
<Six months ago> If you’d remember, we had something to fight for.
<Six months ago> Six months have passed, and it’s just hurting now.
<Six months ago> You killed us but then there’s the ghost of our laughter…

Taunting through the day and haunting the nights,
You’re out there, soaring up on sunny beaches,
With the tides and the sun, while in silence life leaks outta me,
Caught in the perpetual ice storm, you and life conspired to put me in.

<Six months ago> I wished to die, and fade,
<Six months ago> What I feel now.
<Six months ago> You came in and that changed.
<Six months ago> Now you’re gone and won’t come back again.

All I wanna apologize for is,
I really do miss you.
Baby, you were all the good things,
I believe life ever had to offer me, that I will miss.

Thoughts, ramblings.

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3.50 am | 11 Oct, 2013

I don’t see any point in what I am doing right now… So there is no point in anything anyone else does in an attempt to be happy. Some people work, some people play. When they all know happiness is always momentary and rare is the case that lovers die together. I don’t know where my endeavor would be categorized. It’s been a few days or so it feels. Some seventy days it’s been, like a whirlwind. I have felt time like a companion, strolling along with me, running, stumbling, leaping and loitering aimlessly while I sought to pursue my happiness that he makes me anyway. It’s wrong, I know. Hoping and waiting, but I do anyway. With everyday he makes me fall for him a little while falling out of it a little. The throbbing heart just waits to see him again. The pulsating little light behind his form when I see him, sets my heart at unrest. My nerves are on fire, and deep inside me there is this all consuming desire, just to put myself out there at his mercy. I hate myself for it. I’ve had this before, and I don’t want history repeating. I don’t want to become another Meera, waiting for Krshna to be hers. My mornings became my nights and midnight my dawn, and yet desires are never ending. The wait is always there. So much is at stake, just so much, and yet he is unaware of it.