nothing really happens...

Why cant I possess you-
With all my love that I can offer you inturn?
Why cant I love you-
With all my heart and self?
Why cant I tell you
That I miss you and spend sleepless nights thinking about u?

You never looked back after you said goodbye tonight
Not even a peck on cheek;
before you left me to be alone again to face the endless monotony
of life, of worthlessness: where nothing really happens.

Why do you do this?
Don’t you realize that nobody can love you more than I do
May be I am not pure and innocent anymore
But does that really make a difference?

May be not the role of a patient listener tonight
But of a passionate lover.
Gift me for the last time- the world of sacred mirages.
Just let me live in the world of illusions
That would anyways crumble and fall apart

when you run out of patience-
Slap me and wake me up
or
let me live in your arms just for
just for a moment that will be my eternity…
I promise you no more insanities, no more insecurities
Just let me hold you.
Look at me the way you did when we were young and playful
Look at me with all the passions, love and care that you can conjure up:
This moment…
Hold me…
kiss me… and lull me to sleep-
Just once more like you did that warm winter afternoon…

Comments

Anonymous said…
It made me cry Madhuri. I can't call this writing "awesome" as in my opinion that will be showing disrespect to whatever you wrote. Its not a "awesome" writing. Its a sobbing voice of a wounded heart. Thus an honest feeling which irrevocably made me write this. I know you don't seek opinion but as there exited a public place for few words and I felt a strong desire to express. Sorry! if I it hurts you.
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said…
...then my last comments first line summarizes my reply to your comment. And last line of my last comment was just a precautionary statement, for "just in case" reaction. Not because I was criticising, rather I thought if by chance it ends up making you feel so.
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I was not looking for anything specific. Your writing is touchy.
Syco Rax said…
i love it. because its honest. poetry should be honest and heartfelt. i felt that sadness. like music. there is nothing called good poetry or not-so-good poetry. its poetry. its everything. thank you for sharing this with us.

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