Stretch marks

You call them ugly?

Or do they make you hesitate,

Your fingers pulled back in a moment’s uncertainty,

Floating mid-air, till you decide to let it go,

And touch her anyway, and sweep away the memory under,

The rug in your mind which hides your basest thoughts.

You don’t know the battles they’ve fought for her,

Between men who sweep their hands over them,

And boys who tediously avoid the seemingly ugly lines.

You don’t know the countless sacrifices,

Between choosing what not to eat and

Deciding how much to starve.

You don’t garner the intense vulneraibility she lays hidden,

Within those bold stretches across her waist,

You just see the play of skin on skin,

And you keep your fingers away.




It’s been twelve minutes since midnight,

And I haven’t blinked once,

Every time I try to go void, it’s like

My own heart tries to betray me and

Pulls me back into this hot mess.

But do you realize, that in these twelve minutes of midnight,

I’ve gone through the last 12 months probably

A hundred times,

I’ve sighed at all the good parts, and

Cut out the times that you went dark,

From my memory, which betrays me,

Every time that I even think of how wrong you were,

It clings to the first time I had your arms around me,

And felt what I felt what I was never going to feel.


I try to come around, to this world seeming so gray, and

Monstrous truths and bitter lies, but my

Mind plays tricks, and traps me into its own doom.

It’s like I see the way out of this,  but I won’t even take my first step.

I see that this had to end the way it did,

But I would go through it again, just for

The briefest of times with you.






You tuck in your passport,

You polish your shoes,

Your gleaming face with its reckless smile

Makes it hard,

To discern the sheen of sweat on your brow,

And the plagued heart you have to tow.


You don’t want to go,

You know how it is,

Amidst the slammed doors and

Mental battles,

Words of spite flying from our mouths with,

Lightening speed,

You too realized that the worth in staying back,

Far overpowers the relief in storming out.


You packed your bags with a hurrying speed,

Only to be betrayed by your eyes,

Which avoided contact,

Contact, which your fingers had yearned,

Just last night. And today, you storm out,

With anger on your lips, and

A quickness in your steps,

Only to be betrayed,

By the tremble in your hands.


You don’t look back, you don’t listen,

Not to me, not even to your heart;

Your fingers rake through your hair,

And there’s certainly no mistaking,

The quickness in your breath.

You just sail past, like a blurry shape

Quick to escape, but never ready to leave.

And it is only when you are miles away into your rage,

Do you realize what a terrible mistake you’ve made.




When Will I Be Heard?

//Written in response to Heard.

The alliances formed by maternal aunts,

Who throw words like ‘cautious’ and ‘docile’ at me,

Left, right, and centre,

Who tell me to stay away, from man,

And anything in this world, even resembling

This being created out of sheer evil.


The glares from across the street, by

People who know me yet don’t see me,

Who put me into boundaries erected by half-baked lies,

And half-heard tales,

Inked with quick and dirty judgements;

They make me, yet somehow unmake me.


The oft-interrupted story, I often yearn to yell

And never get to tell,

The way you cut down on my words,

The way you dress them up with your own,

They clamp down on my will to speak,

They break down all my power to live.


Your denial is an attempt to curb,

What you call ‘unsuited’ for me,

What I demand to take with both hands,

You refuse to grant me even a peek,

And this way you don’t just rain down blows,

You pin me down beneath.



Despite the charring injustice you serve,

I temper my voice, and teach it to obey,

Lull it down, where it gathers up its force, and

Every passing day, I seek the answer;

An answer which you owe me,

When, oh when, will I be heard?


// Written in response to Overwhelming.

The scars on my back arent’s as deep

As the ones etched permanently,

On tear-stained flesh and dark lines

Underneath blurry eyes.

Because who knows, how loud

The wails will sound, the

Next time I cry out your name

And hopefully, the next time,

Won’t be in helpless agony and

Timeless, foolish hope.

But in fire,

Red, hot, and the one that tears down

The walls I built;

Which can shatter and break,

Kill and smear,

Drape and revere,

The surging tide beneath.

And once it washes over the

Entirety of your being,

I hope that I rise again,

Anew and detached, with newly-built


And should your shadow dare to fall

On the new face I call my own,

This time I won’t plague myself to wipe out your

Existence, no;

This time I’ll take you down.


//Written in response to Replacement.

The pain came later,

First, the words thudded around in,

My heart, squeezed right there in front of you,

Oh! How deep the echoes of rejection,

Resonated, and not once did you look back,

Except for maybe a slight turn of the left shoulder,

Or maybe, that too, was a fragment of my

Imagination, which draws up your form,

Again and again and again.

And right when the emptiness had taken its toll,

You hit me back harder, this time, however, with

A weapon I didn’t recognice.

She was lean, petite and had the sun radiating from her eyes,

And you looked at her quite different; I wonder what went right?

I knew not then that the emptiness would return,

That the room would feel dark again;

I knew not then, that the clouds would fade,

And her laugh would swim around in my mind.

I just knew, that the cold grip would return,

My mind capturing my heart,

Feeding me those same old lies, intoxicating me with those

Same old hopes. I begged, and bruised, and charged at my mind,

To let go of my soul; but alas!

Little did it listen.

Instead, it consumed it alive.



// Written in response to Calm, but I’ve taken the liberty to convert this word into its exact opposite. 

There’s this fire,

Cursing through my veins,


Mind-numbing; I fear

It might just burst open

Some vessel pulsing beneath my

Skin; I fear,

It might just crash down some walls,

I took a long time to build, but not long enough

To secure; I fear,

It might just tear down my solace,

I’ve find so hard looking, and finally

Found in you; I fear,

It might just rob me of my senses,

I had put so much faith in, but never

Enough heart; I fear,

It might just knock me down,

And crush my legs from beneath;

Unable to stand, I look up and if,

If by chance, my eyes glance upon your face,

I fear, this fire, this bone-crushing desire,

Might just be the end of me.