mayday_calls

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 🌻 

memory, magic, myself, cocaine, so classic, and  you with vanilla essence, home tour, one room,  two fools, every noon, gospel music, your fingers like strings on my thighs, opium lethargy, was a point so clean in the bedsheet, every sip of the coffee now feels like your beast , marijuana, sensational deep, you have some vigour, fantasy, an immature girl, and chocolate muse,  i cater you my grace, orgasm speciality, slap you, smooch your scars and sleep over you,  ecstasy standing fragile, between my legs and  you bring it to my head, caffeine so high, professional intake, i hardly miss you, but the sex was insane. narcotics have failed, clutch me once again, i hardly miss you , but the sex was insane. the sex... - chetna 🌻 

six years ago,  i was a fucking infected  insane , just in the loop, three years ago, i never thought you had wiped him from my poisoned  paradise, just by love, in this moment, i am writing one hundred  seventy seventh poem on your torch and torture just in suffering, wait, i need some air, fuck my pulses, you need some pills, wake up from your sleep, later in the moment  you stop thinking about me, i would be gifting this love to the bird with broken wings, just in outrage, three years from now , i would be screwing up this silk and steams, just in shame, six years from now , i would be cursing us for ruining this expensive shit, just in the sabotaged state, wait, i need some weed, fuck my tongue, you need some tsunamis, wake up from your sleep, back to the baseline, my heart was a liar, but you were a liar too, yes you were a liar too.  - chetna 🌻 

this summer, less of the Sun, more like a circuit, i'm in the memory of the saddest spring, flowers, godly showers,  pale scleras, red outlines, shifting iris in the gloom, "fuck this tragedy, god please say , you're lying!"  the world where  i could touch and  tour your transitions is thriving in my psalms, i can now sense your slow-steady silence  for the teen who grew into a child in your arms ? no one will ever  scrutinize the dices  i threw in the gamble, no one will ever  neutralize the darnels  you grew in the sanctum, sealed mouths look prettier than the  thoughtless tongues, healing hedgehogs  survive better than the hollowed heathens, choosing the delicacy  of the choice when you  chose me was the  first choice of your life , losing the fear of losing someone is the  last loss of my life. dear spring , summer  and saline suffering, will i survive succeeding  shedding season? - chetna 🌻 

I loved the picture, picture in my head, head, full of tomorrow, tomorrow, lacking breath, breath, whirling in our home, home built by our blood, blood we spilled on the floor, floor, still recalling footprints, footprints, of us and our child, child, who's in the lap of God, God, the twin of our death, death dreaming in clouds, cloud crucified by chance, chance gifted in the dark, dark kneeling on the face, face rolling on stones, stone or mask for the world, world incompetent for our son, our son or ending of this poem, poem, sending scripts to stars , stars , about to glisten our love, love, shadowed on the picture, picture dead in my head , i said picture in my head. - chetna 🌻 

the room , saturated with  claps, your punchlines, has been left haunted,  it never smiles any more, sobbing sirens in the home  occluding the silence of joy, what does this turbulence sign ? the sky, so green, red and dusky, bland, violet and blue, rains you sent back to us  within a week felt so true, forever, favourite, fresh and  filled are now the worst skies, what does this weather sign? parting ways, untold farewells, waiting till the last hope dwells, praying to gods, unfiltered grief, throbbing hard till it turns stiff, sending you, so away, far away, we could not qualify this time, what does this inability sign ? father , what are these signs ? - chetna 🌻 

my name in the fire  altar is their seventh benefit, my imprint, that too, in the grey list is their sixth benefit, my heat ready to fuel  solar flares is their fifth benefit, my relics to exemplify the religious roar is their fourth benefit, my wax mineralising the  town's light is their third benefit, my pulse stifling some  barking echoes is their second benefit, but if i am the first one , what are the benefits? - chetna 🌻 

this yellow is shredding  its sunlit shine and stones, this time is shrinking  its ability to digest formality, this liquor is sparkling  its distress in the light of grief, this circus is sprinkling  its weight of irrelevant sphere,  the god is blessing chemicals  on my tiny pores of dull skin, the god is sitting on your  eye lashes to taste the salt, the god is obsessed with the  blood of lips when you bite so hard, i think, the god is falling out of  the story he had begun to write, never mind, my words are still  lighter than your aching heart, your moons and magnitudes are stumbling over my last energies, let the god take the test of  our theism till time wants, let the god check the steer  of my pores and your blood, but the fault lies  in the grace of torture  this trembled truth carries, in the delicacy of statue  this physical heat adored  us when we didn't ask for it, where does the fault lie? i'm ...

this litany of  the unchosen fate, the unkindled face, the unholy faith, is the unreal destiny, this fantasy of  the indecisive trap, the invisible trait, the insincere trade, is the insane ecstasy, this fallacy of  the dishonest poetry, the disagreed penalty, the disordered prophecy, is the dismantled legacy. - chetna 🌻 

a life , so big then, but so small now, smaller than the  vacuum of my fist, but we could not  hold you,  please forgive us , we will preserve you  till all the next lives, please stay with us. i write for the pyre, for the ashes, for the  weathered, for the dead, but never about the  force of the universe  which overpowered  our will to keep you with us more please forgive us. what's gone is  gone forever, what's slipped  out of the grip  is slipped forever, what's written in  the manuscript  of nature is  written forever, but why did gods and  goddesses of life need you to justify this law of mortality ? did we fail to pray and conserve you  or did they learn  about your generosity  way earlier than us? please forgive us. thanks for marrying  our mother , thanks for the vows  you made and paid  off until you died,  thanks for the roof under which you  built a homely world...