Bidisha P. Kashyap
On those mornings when the sun and her rays refuse
to peep in through my beige curtains, when my
coffee doesn’t hit my soul like it should and does
every morning, when there are no criss-crossed
sunbeams gliding over my poetry books while I read
them under the big old oak tree in my backyard;
To the afternoons, when I struggle to make my mind
to shower, when my lemon lavender scented candles
fail to lift up my moods too and even the plants
hanging by my window frame look twice as sad as
And of evenings of long car rides filled with old rock
songs with my high school friends, celebrating our
heartbreaks, when I can see all what was left in the
orange-pink skies slowly starts turning into the
darkest possible shade of blue;
Also those nights where all my canvases and
notebooks lay untouched, as I sit on the kitchen
counter softly playing my ukulele seeping into the
darkness more and more with every sip of the half
drunk bourbon that my previous one night stand left
beside my bed;
And those terrible 3 am's when my emotions are
overwhelmed by the loneliness and all I want to is to
escape, so I grab my Fiat keys and drive for almost an
hour, half drinks and half done, to that hill top of my
town and to watch the sun rise in lame hopes to fix
my broken pieces
my broken pieces
-art came to me as an antidepressant on the day you
walked out, but days when my pen refuse to bleed
words and my filled canvases fail to make any sense;
an overwhelming fear embraces me
Will my words walk out of me like you did?
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6 months ago


Bikash Sarma
Bikash Sarma
6 months ago

I guess your words are going to stay with you always if you keep writing like this ..🙃

Reply to  Bikash Sarma
5 months ago

@Bikash Thank You:’)