Things ill Never Tell

Untitled Part 56

It's 2018,

someone broke her heart

She wrote a lot

Similarly sounding poems

Each time cutting the heart and feelings

The wrist and the thighs

Doubling the pain

Just to be sure,

It was over.

But not here it starts,

I'm sure of it.

It's 2018,

August almost

She realises she is in love,

Again.

She is sorry for herself

But there isn't a bit she can do

To fix these feelings

She is scared but,

She writes poems and proses

In the name of love

But not here it starts,

I'm sure of it.

Its still 2018,

The buds of spring almost dying in summer heat.

The childhood love,

Vanishes

As he feels sorry for the friend

he mourns too,

And writes a last piece for him.

But not here it starts,

I'm sure of it.

It's 2017,

She edits captions and makes blog posts

he tries out making a page to put her work

For he found someplace where he belongs..

She becomes a shoulder for her friends

Sometimes through comforting words

he makes them cry

But not here it starts,

I'm sure of it.

It's 2016,

Someone burns in anguish

At leaving memories of school

Like the stars change direction

Home's meaning can change too with time,

They forget.

I cry over a show as i depart it

I write musings for the love i never saw or felt

And spit out few bitter words

For the new weird place,

Without knowing

I will meet someone,

I will adore again.

But not here it starts,

I'm sure of it.

It's 2014,

She feels like a fool

For trying to write her first proper poem

For the love of her life,

She assumes,

'So, it's really this hard to write poems,'

I wrote on his skin

With chapped lips and messy hair

But on paper, it seemed really tough.

Thank God, internet existed,

Finally everyone could be a poet.

But not here it starts,

I'm sure of it.

It's 2018,

I put the blade as close to my skin as i could

I try scribbling 'don't leave' with it,

Red i see..

While my broken heart bleeds too

Blue i know,

I take it all out in a section of my personal journal

As i beg for love to stay for the very first time.

But not here it starts,

I'm sure of it.

It's 2000's,

A kid

sitting under star, dreams about why's of life

She is same still

Just then without the melancholy of reality

She smiles at the windows,

Names them

Talks to people who don't exist

For her,

The tiles broke into lava

Her cousin,

Would turn into a rowdy

And for her,

World wasn't just as brilliant as the one in her head.

She scribbles in her diary of the friend she probably saw in someone but couldn't keep.

But not here it starts,

I'm sure of it.

It's 2003,

The doctor hands over the kid

Naming destiny as 'Doctor' too,

The child cries violently,

Making it all false

She laughs at the baby, and informs

'she is really a very active baby'

Not knowing 19 years from now,

The only part active would be her brain

She would be frozen in disdain for the world.

But not here it starts,

I'm sure of it.

It's the beginning of the world,

The first leaf

The vast ocean bed

The gasping fire

Yet everlasting peace

Begins

Forming the big 'O'

Into something full of life

It starts here

in wonder, for the writers will bring into it

this, I'm sure of.