#Januaryfalls18 19. Cemetery snowdrops

Icicles hang from the branches

sharp as arrows; just as deadly.

I wrap my arms around myself for the warmth,

but it’s no use when one has died

on the inside, along with their loved ones.

The only thing left to do is to wait

to wait for their time to join them

in the cold, damp ground.

Ehhh. Not so great.

My bae, Parvathi over at Queen Talks and I are attempting these prompts curated by Poetry Falls over on Instagram.

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#Januaryfalls18 18. Passion Blooms

As I turn around

a plate of food in my hand

I lock eyes with you,

my throat suddenly filled with sand.

 

Your eyes held power,

mysterious, seductive; I ignored my gut

which was telling me to cower

as you were not meant for someone like me.

 

My gut won and I averted my gaze  (very painfully so)

went and sat down with some friends

trying to graze

and made useless small talk, trying to forget you.

***

I’d never seen someone with so much food on their plates and so much honesty in their eyes; the moment I my eyes met yours, I knew it: we were meant to be. I smiled my best smile, trying to win you over, charming your pants off, but you went away.

Why?

What happened?

Did we not just have a moment there?

Did I just imagine the whole thing?

I hope not. My best imagination couldn’t have conjured up something so real as you.

My brain is mush. But I liked how I took this poem.

My bae, Parvathi over at Queen Talks and I are attempting these prompts curated by Poetry Falls over on Instagram.

#Januaryfalls18 11. Liquor and Lies

“Hey, come here,”

you call me as soon as you notice me walking in.

I walk towards you,

noticing a half empty bottle

of red wine and you holding a glass.

I take a long sip from yours, and sit down

next to you.

You pull me by the collar

close to your face, our breaths mingled

“I’ll forget that I did this tomorrow, so”

And you kiss me.

Clumsy and with passion.

I hold you up, push you against the couch,

and kiss you back.

Next morning, we go back

to our lives.

Even though we don’t want to forget

that this ever happened.

Hm, this is okay-ish. I’m not very happy but it will have to do.

My bae, Parvathi over at Queen Talks and I are attempting these prompts curated by Poetry Falls over on Instagram.

#Januaryfalls18 4. Dripping Secrets

Now that I know that smile,

and now that I know how to earn it for myself,

time for the next step:

what lies behind that smile?

that rare and alluring smile

that smile that just disarms me

that smile that has to be earned.

Things aren’t as transparent as they seem

I’ve learned,

and people are the same.

So, should I wait for him to tell me,

or should find them out

by myself?

This is not going quite as planned. I mean this poem and the whole poetry challenge. Will come back soon!

Parvathi, over at Queen Talks and I are attempting poetry prompts by Falls Poetry over on Instagram.

#Novemberfalls 15. Unstrung

In this puppet show

called LIFE,

I have been led to make many

many wrong decisions.

Well, not any more.

Your decisions

I suffer the consequences.

No more.

I cut off the string attaching me

to you

and I feel free.

This could be taken as a poem on suicide. I suppose.

Parvathi and I are attempting these poetry prompt by Falls Poetry.

#Novemberfalls 14. Falling topaz

I was a star.

Bright, Shining, unblinking,

unfading.

My end

was the last thing on my mind.

But before I knew it

I was falling.

Deep into the abyss

and so far deep that

I cannot get back up.

Parvathi, over at her swag blog Queen Talks, and I are attempting these poetry prompts, by Falls Poetry.

#Novemberfalls 13. Wilting innocence

Sunlight streams through closed curtains.

missing door only adds to the atmosphere.

I pray, I beg to not be seen

but no escape route will leave me alive.

facing him is my biggest fear.

but avoidance is hard because he

lives in our house.

This is something inspired by my mother. She and her sisters were raised in joint family, without a mother, and apart from poverty, the biggest problem she’d ever faced was this horrible uncle of hers. May he die a horrible and painful death.

This is to all the women and men out there, who’ve faced their worst fears, which wear masks of people they believe in. I salute you.

Parvathi, over at her blog Queen Talks, and I are attempting poetry prompts by Falls Poetry.