Skip to main content

One Pathetic Little Heart

 


Black and white photographs

Hanging on the wall, behind me, 

Dance at the company

Of sheer curtains. 

Fresh coffee rings on the table

Cuddle with the lacquer

crying for my attention. 

The chandelier wonder 

At the brightness of daylight, 

And my little heart 

Wonders at the lies I heard. 

I feel nauseous at how I 

Put up with all those lies. 

I'm just so tired of the notion

of truth. 

what a pathetic little heart!

What naivety and vulnerability has

Consumed you. 

You made me think I own 

the autumn, 

That I can have him all for myself 

In my private abode. 

That spurious affection was

Afterall nothing but a lie, 

And my foolish heart 

created fake scenarios, 

with every word of Autumn, 

who would give a peck on the neck, 

With a pat on the back. 

What a pathetic little heart! 

You never understood

What seasons meant, 

You never realized they belong to 

each other. 

You found it amusing to be with fall, 

In his private party, 

for you came early with excitement. 

And just like that, 

when autumn left, 

leaving the leaves and me behind, 

You still lingered around his home, 

Unable to free from the hangover

and intoxicated by the leftovers. 

What more it takes for you to 

Come to senses? 

How long does it take to make you sober? 

What spell should I chant to wake you up? 

Please wake up and walk one step forward, 

My pathetic little heart! 

A. C

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Returning Souvenirs

  You say you can only offer friendship for my love,  I say l don't want it.  I want love,  love in big forms,  love that fills every atom around me,  Love that challenges every equation.  I thought you are the one,  the one with whom they would define people.  I'm just fine to ask you to return everything,  Everything that I gave as souvenirs of my love,  Which you received as a friend.  Starting from my starings and nights waiting for your responses.  I turned to be someone I was not, for you,  I spent my time, analysing and making hypotheses on you.  So return my brain cells used for that,  the blood that rushed to my veins,  Every time I saw you.  I want my health and thoughts that I wasted for you,  The souvenirs of my love.  I have murdered my love for you,  One fine night,  I have buried the carcass of my love  In the gardens of hopelessly wandering ghosts.  The...

Dear Gretta

  Dear Gretta,     Your songs are like a poem that was long forgotten, that gives a dejavu everytime I listen to it. It  reminds me of New York City where you felt alone, where you were ditched by Dave and where you found yourself through Dan. You were never ready to compromise, you  were fully conscious of what you were doing and never doubted your own instincts. Even when you felt a connection with Dan, you helped Violet to reconnect with him, bringing out the beautiful guitarist in her, which eventually got him back to his family. Yet you smiled for being the reason behind reuniting Dan with his family, you smiled even when you knew that this would leave you all alone again. You gave yourself truly into your songs that you could not tolerate the loss of its essence, the mere commercialization of it.  You breathed music, danced and walked with it. Even when you knew that those are fleeting moments, the moments in New York City where every song in you...

A Letter to Adaline

Dear Adaline,  You were a surprise for me.When I first saw you getting out of the yellow cab to purchase the fake IDs, there was something in your eyes and smile. And after a few minutes did I realise that your history of 107 years was buried deep inside your eyes and smile. Your past, present and future finally ends in you,Adaline, the first born baby in San Francisco on New Year's Day of 1908.I see my dopple ganger in your love for history and archives. what made your history different from mine and others was that you perceived the history of decades through your eyes and we perceived it through books.You saw the horrors of wars, the rise of powers, the fall of people,the change in living, the developing cities.And most importantly you learned how to 'let go' I have always wanted to be like you, to stop aging at a beautiful age.As Ellis shares a saying in Italy,"Years, lovers, and glasses of wine. These are things that should never be counted". But you...