Skip to main content

ashes


She wills me on
like a bright sun
shining, even though she’s but all gone
her battle’s over, she won!
and although it was a short one
she’s finally where she belongs
but I’m still here
thinking of her
while I stare
at her image oh! So clear
in my memories
I cherish
the time well spent
and right now I have no one to vent
on to, I cried
till my tears dried
but no! I’ll never see her again
but just her words
makes me wanna do broad
decisions, her one wish
is her small hiss
is the thing that pushes me
to be
better than I was yesterday
and as much as I say,
she was the one who got away
and on the ocean she lays
gone with her ashes
#simu(well I already wrote a bunch about her on my previous poem [april] so m just gonna keep it short. I’m haunted by her memories nowadays.  Her memory’s been haunting me for past couple of weeks. Her voice…her face…her smile…her smell. It’s all fresh in my mind and it’s been pushing me further to do my best in whatever I’m currently doing besides moping and sobbing. Yes I feel sad. A heaviness in my heart is ever present and I carry it with tired mind and a tired body. It is said that when one has nothing but memories, one guards and dusts them with care. Guess I’m doing the same even though it’s killing me. I guess #jacckass is true. I am an M. )
-yakaa: jujaa

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

memor....hallucination

that cute little butt of hers those beautifull brunette curls that flows across her face yeah the same one with button nose and her smile the one that goes all the way to her heart it was nothing but a lie oh why did i had to lie??? why did i had to break that promise i made her yeah i cried but tears stopped right before they reached my eyes i had a reason for ending it and she knew it every bit so well: even more than me that she could tell what i had to say hello miss cuddles! well you ain't there thats just my hallucination please don't stare at me i can't bare to see you go, where are you now??? nowhere but in my brain -yakaa: jujaa #felicity (i wrote this one some two years back. back then i was called eklo yatri. meanings the same it's just a matter of language. dedicated to felicity. she meant the world to me. n even though we have drifted apart i still hallucinate her voice)

when a writer dies

A lot has been said  a lot had to be said that's what we do, we the word warriors that's what we do, we the hurt worriers that's at times all we have that's at times all we can slap others with, our mode of expression that's the skill we have chosen to hone after years and years of jolting down useless lines after days and months of thinking through times through times of worries and through times of stress word has been our last line of defense the things written but unspoken the lines written from the heart that is broken yes, that is the only thing we have at most times the only place where we can safely whine but there comes a time when all of it stops, There comes a time when the pen drops and that is what we consider our death when all that needs to be said has been said or when the last hope of hope has been laid to rest that's when we have lost interest not in our craft but in our lives that is when a writer truly dies and writers block is not the death ...

lie

i act but that's all i got left to keep myself same from my own emotions, i don't want no help from anybody but i'm getting them from everybody but i feel no shame cause i haven't asked them from anyone and now i ain't got no home and my hearts turned into stone and after years of hone- ning my skills I've finally succeed in letting my head taking over my heart cause once broken and hurt heart only gives bad advice so we should only listen to it in trifle amount I've learned to ignore the sounds the voices in my head that speaks of hatred I've learned to lie so high that even the sky despises me, i like to hide the monster in me the one no one must ever see -yakaa: jujaa