mayday_calls

their fucking bodies  of one mouth, ten eyes, hundred brains plotting, but i won't trap my skull in mud again to find their meaning, some man wishes to use my hips to  caramelize his dick and die fantasizing, but i won't clap, cry and cope again when  talking to the ceiling, bereft reasons left with my bare senses, so they call termites to carve me all from within, but i won't turn my  visceral words again to leave me bleeding, "you're so loud, way louder than so-called  pain, such synchronised  shame you aim!" but i won't call out  my raw and rough  rhymes again to undo the phases of my healing, theories based on the hard stones, but yielding stories inked into the warm room, but i won't crush the soil, force my divine  again when the world prays to get me kneeling, - chetna 🌻 

white pigeons in my ash-laden fossilized sky, i tied a post to their  legs, carrying my  coarse-outsourced love, my dear favourite boy, keeping my fingers  on count, throwing my  poems to a foolish  crowd, layers unleashing  my impatience to tell  you, "you are my hero, i want your sky to  meet my ground" white pigeons  flapping in your tuscan red sky,  i endured too much  agony to realise  "it's their sky too, and you don't need every spectrum just because i like turning  all my filth to blue " i wish they'd just stay away from your reach, in a safer sunlit sky, you'd better sleep under the full moon without  my cold, paroled, coarse-forced love, my dear favourite boy. - chetna 🌻 

"i am growing water  hyacinths of your garden  on my blanched cheeks,  and some small salty  springs somehow  drain their rotten roots, the skin of my cheek renounced its chance  to smile till lifetimes, as it's you or these  flowers either way, you're still close and  condensed on my flesh,  the veins of every petal  of hyacinths touch my face, like your fingertips,  i am blessed, you left me  with similar shade like you,  ever thriving on me, like i once pictured for you, " - yours forgotten flower - chetna 🌻 

this sheer existence of snakes in my lawn, my willful obedience to drink their poison, one bit my flesh, other roped my hand, a third climbed up  to trench my throat, but my heart was too far, to nozzle me off, i knew ions of my  blood are still holding  venoms of the past, filtered in the dark, they now push, erode and rupture my veins, spaces under my  skins are colouring themselves cobalt, i gasp before praying  to the lord, if he can ever signal you ,  in the blink of an eye, in the hope of light, to reap and revive the dried capillaries  of my life, just by  your breath, "will you flood the rifts  of my ribs just by  your breath?"  - chetna 🌻 

i was slowly becoming  a plant for the fallow  manchild like you, so the words i said in  the heat to unwind you now look calculated, so the claps i adored you turned performative, all my fingers climbed  upto my cheeks, not in  the fear of one day  losing you, but for the face i carried while  serving you, 'cause  i thought you would  never ever paint me blue, your disguised cruelty, or maybe my dead mentality  loving you so hard, i was  just switching personalities, once an iceberg, never  chose to be the river again, i fuelled your empty brain  with my fucking generosity, i am done now to get  everything undone now, the girl of your dreams is still discolouring herself  to one day meet the sun, the boy of her dreams she  once prayed you were is  still tarnishing her heart, i was slowly becoming an oasis in the deserted  manchild like you, so the benefits you had by forcing me to become  a m...

jinx in the dark woods, juliet dead in childhood, juvenescence was just running out of thirst, just or unjust? but i  stumbled on soft crust, jokers and drugs, i knew  they were assassinators, january brought needles and tragedies in subway, jack of all trades is my name when they threw me in pain, jealousy before the downplay crushed all my living kens, justice was hanging but  breathing hard in gallows,  jaded is the love of my life, i blame myself somehow, journey once had juliet, her jinx, just trapped in woods, engulfing drugs and jokes, to kill her trust and thoughts, juliet was born in the woods, juliet died in the childhood. - chetna 🌻 

dump yard or  my face, whose  shadow did fit in  your eyeballs? not once or twice but a million times, to throw your  favourite, faltered  fucked up past, queries of your future where i could not  survive, just died, unnecessary doubts  to draw a veil over your  disproportionate rage, those hoaxes and  honeymoons, the  unfulfilled yellow  promises, how  pretty we had forged   those clothes, cold  air, cascades, clogs  and cheesecakes, they scream to throttle  in my verses, barring how hard you steered  and treated me like  a beautiful basin,  did you want to run against the clock, or taste my love in every feasible taste bud? i was never so clever, just an unexposed  child, learning you  and unlearning my  previous lives, but that trash and  nonsense, chaos  and your boredom,  have rusted my spine, dump yard or  my face, whose shadow did fit  in you...

dropping some hands, some or those, once  on my waist, while  dancing on 'paper rings', counting the shelf life  of redness of my cheeks, could never look into  the eyes, falling in  love every other second turns my last cell shy, in a blink of blossom, monsoon showers on  my skins, goodbye to  fallen foliage, stiff battles  in months of hazes, some hands still on  my waist, counting  the lapse of my breaths, measuring floor of  our home, one step  further, three steps back, but dropped those hands, they're no longer 'some' yes no longer mine. - chetna 🌻 

infamous but  infallible ink  said, "i love you" at least a thousand times  better than how this  town fabricated light all around you,           " your ignited ions,            negligible patience,            lost joy of teenage,            some falsified cliche,            your so-called friends,            such cowardly saints,            at the end of the day,            you wanted someone             to stay anyway,            i was always running             to home, away from home,            my clock was stuck at            3:33, signalling there's a      ...

sunflower was our gradient, not this regressive redness, heartbreaks people  cry for today, we have  lived in ourselves, tears, culprits, losses, darkness, look so unworthy, we have  forgiven them,  battles so peculiar, vintage and fun, shifting blames to  each other, what is  left now to be done? a house with roaring bricks, cracked floors, survived three fucking  thunderstorms, are  we too real for this? it's major but small,  or decent but dark, remember, people and  friends, laughing aloud, look at you, look at her, how shallow we must  have looked like before we outgrew just simple and sober us, now shattered apart, facing twin ego hazard,  filming our own parts, if we are too ready to forgo the love we once lent to each other's heart.  - chetna 🌻