Cursor on my notepad
stares at the white screen,
blank face, empty heart a lost soul
in the middle of December night
It asks, Why you can’t type anything tonight?
I say, you only read the words but can’t understand emotions immersed inside every letter I type
Maybe I’ll just listen, that might help
Oh crap ! I no longer want to be heard
My throat is already chocked with the things I didn’t say months ago
better I vomit those somewhere near pluto, I say
But you always wrote letters of
full of love, hope & inspiration
didn’t know you were nothing but a hypocrite just like everyone else.
Yes, I am both. Living with every damn trait of a toxic depressed person around you.
First, I fooled myself then with you wrote all the sweet lies that i never listened myself
I am here for you, just like you were for everyone else
maybe all you need is time alone
and come back stronger as you advice to everyone else
Maybe you’re right, I was there for some
feeling their pain diving deep in their misery
but i couldn’t listen my own heart cracking until there was no one to pick up the broken pieces
Did you pick up those pieces yourself?
I’m sure you did and
put them where they belonged
to pump your heart at 72 beats per minute
It was way too dark to find those
in the sand darker than a cold night
A night without moon & stars with sound of my dying heart all around
So I sat there alone in the dark
with a deep regret
a regret of not listening my own heart cracking
and ignoring it until it’s lost
Now the hearts which I listned to
beats with a melody
which I can’t feel with my heartless
chest and mind hidden inside heavy head
But hey, I’m here for you
I know your heart doesn’t beat anymore
but I’ll keep blinking on the rhythm of your lost heart
until you put a full stop at the end
of your last poem
This poem is a conversation between a Poet & a Cursor on his notepad. It talks about inability of poet to write, dealing with loneliness, broken hearts, darkness and hypocrisy.
Poet in this poem is a person who has been there for people all the time. But often left all alone in his need.
This doesn’t mean I am going through this right now but I have felt this earlier. And many of my poems are inspired from the feelings which I have felt strongly (in past) but couldn’t express.
Also, I am still not sure if this conversation or poem is understandable as I haven’t mentioned who’s talking (for most parts).
So, do let me know in the comments below if you find it hard to understand this one.
Thank you for reading!
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