Skip to main content

Promise me.

Promise me not to wither away,
For you were once the object of my love.

I was smitten at first sight, but you never knew,
You were the one I yearned for secretly.

With familiarity, the magic spell broke,
I realized your vulnerability, your weaknesses. 

I stepped back. Perhaps it was a sham.
You ceased to charm me. 

With time, I started to loathe you.
Your presence annoyed me. 

But when you said,"I wish I were dead",
Something tugged my heart. I froze with fear.

I don't exactly know what holds me unto you,
Is it our affection or the thought of separation ?

In love, maybe, you never loved back.
In hatred, I fancy you are around, hating me back.


Promise me not to wither away,
For I want to be the object of your hatred.


Pic Courtesy:Google

Comments

Arv said…
Deep thoughts :)

Popular posts from this blog

WAITING FOR YOU

Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

Amidst Soul-lessness

There is smoke somewhere. 
I cannot seem to figure out where. 
The lights are here, the music is here.
Has it been home here ?
Perhaps. Maybe when it did not rain.
Or maybe when it rained and it did not matter.
Maybe when I walked alone, smiling to myself. 
Or maybe when I realized I was okay.
Had it been always like this ?

Not really. 
Things clicked, took effort and blood. 
Did I do it ? Or the beasts did ? Maybe we both together,
Played this game. 
Amidst soulful solitude, it was love. 
Maybe appreciation.
Another journey, another dry spell. 
Will it ever be home again ? 

P.S. : Penned at Candies, Bandra on 11th January 2017 


All Consuming Love

Dear You,

Looks like I have found you.

In the depths of my love, I notice your smile.

Yes, the one you flash after that brief moment of joy.

I feel your fingers entwined in mine. All the time.

Your eyes speak to mine, asking me questions.

Remember the first time I told you of my affection and my afflictions ?

You must know this. You consume my thoughts, time and grief.

Glad to have met you.

Yours,

Me.