Poem Collection #1

Poem Collection #1

Published by- Tilak Upreti

Posted 2 years ago

 Confession

I hate my heart

It clings to hope,

tearing me apart.

I've reasoned with it,

pleaded in vain,

But it's deaf to logic,

blind to my pain.

I hate my heart

For when it’s out, it kills me and possesses the self

doesn’t like wearing any mask

And starts doing stupid things

there are questions I've been wanting to ask

But all it wants to do is to dance & sing

And my heart probably hates me too,

As all it wants is to get out and love

It’s still so young and I feel so old

that we’re always at odds

And all I do for it is scribble a few words.



It’s Your Fault  

It's your fault, you know,

This constant smile etched on my face,

A state where I can't even listen to a song,

Without feeling your embrace.

It's all your fault, you know,

That in echoes of laughter, I hear your voice,

The sunsets I loved, brings little rejoice

For my love, your absence is there

A ghostly presence in the evening air.

It’s your fault, my dear, I confess,

There is an ache in my heart, that won't suppress

It beats strangely and is too tired,

It seems to have forgotten how to exist

Without being desired

So, I wander through the labyrinth of mind,

Haunted by your presence, relentless and kind,

To think of you, an unending curse,

I have destroyed myself

And yet there is no remorse.



Tell Me She Says

Tell me where it hurts, she says

but I can’t tell her, can I?

for hurt is nothing, just four letters small and cute, 

but the weight it carries, my love, is absolute  

Then tell me why you look so sad?

what game are you playing?

do you just want to make me look bad?

is this a cruel jest, a calculated ploy?

to shatter my spirit, my inner joy?

Should I tell her what I crave?

or would that be a grave mistake?

risking vulnerability, emotions churn

or do I keep it hidden, safe within?

buried beneath this mask, a timid grin.

Tell me, are you angry? She says

but how can I be when

her faintest smile breaks through my walls,

and all the bitterness within me falls

in these dark alleys, where demons once roamed,

her presence, a solace, a haven I've known.

 

 Maybe

I have a pen in my hand and sun in my head

I lay here searching for words,

But they hide and run away from me

Maybe I’ll just binge another season—

No, maybe I will force them out

The sun is getting more than warm;

The skin turns dark, and then the sky turns dark

Bottles clink, and the lungs turn darker

I wait for tomorrow;

They say it will be better,

But I can’t imagine—

Or maybe you won’t let me

Either way, it is yet to come,

So I let myself dream for now

Maybe I’ll learn to live without a dream

The days are getting shorter—

Maybe it will be over soon,

Or maybe it will not.

Maybe I am too honest — No,

Maybe I am just a good liar

Maybe everything is lost,

Or maybe nothing is lost

Maybe I will learn to write,

Knowing you’ll never read.

Maybe the next one I write

Will not be a complete shit.


Do Not

Do not ask me,

 "What am I doing?"

I cannot explain that I am busy,

Busy, doing nothing.

Do not ask,

"Why do I speak so little?"

 For the words I speak are lies,

And I am weary of deceit.

Do not ask me,

"What is it that I fear?"

 For I fear I’ll make you suffer.

 You see, I’ve been cursed

With a love I cannot repay,

No matter what I offer.

Do not look at me

With those piercing eyes,

For I may meet your gaze.

Do not peek into my heart,

For you might glimpse a wound.

Do not dig any further,

For you might uncover love.


   Questions

What requires more strength—

To hold on or to let go?

What needs more courage—

To do something or to do nothing?

Can you fake love until it becomes real?

Can you be in love and still hate?

Does it make sense that I lost when I won?

I know these are silly questions, right?

I know I should get a grip

But this is what I am, you see

I am addicted to all the bad things

I apologize if I am complain too much,

But it’s not fair, you know,

That I know almost nothing about you,

And I’ve given you all my secrets

So, you must tell me,

Do you smile often?

Are your eyes still filled with passion?

I wonder what makes you tick,

What kind of music do you listen to?

What kind of books do you read?

Do you like rainy days?

What do you do when you feel lonely?

What would you want me to touch—?

Your body, your mind, or your soul?

Do these hollow words mean anything to you?

If yes, then let me warn you,

Do not mistake it for love,

For these are words of obsession.


Comments