shivak singh

Photo by Dave Lowe on Unsplash

Indeed she is in love again
That too with a new affection
We have started over again
Does she even think of me?
And wants to talk to me over the phone for hours
I can feel something drawing her back

I did everything to reach out to her
But she has to trust me
And right now
She can’t do it
Even though
She loves me

She loves me
She is with me
But can things change
And can time bring
New circumstances;
I love you and have never betrayed you
But I can’t make you trust me
Cuz then the words:
“I love you”
Will start sounding lame

©one_eyed_poet

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Photo by Mitchell Hollander on Unsplash

What is pain?
Is it the feeling when blood gushes out of vein?
Or, is it a tangible definition of self disdain?
Is it happiness that we wish to refrain?

Why would anyone go down this lane?
Commuting that one way from sane to insane.
By being in such agony what could we gain?
Spilling pool of blood just to wash a bloodstain.

Why would anyone make someone suffer?
We mostly share what we have in abundance.
Is this all we have to offer?
Enjoying watching someone suffer.

Is self-entertainment is all we crave?
First taking their name in a rave,
Then slowly starting to hurt and misbehave,
Shovel after shovel digging their grave.

©one_eyed_poet

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Photo by Farrinni on Unsplash

I still remember my first kiss,
strands of your hair came between our lips,
completely indulged in that act,
none of seven bothered to react,
We didn’t even think of dragging them out,
that’s what you and I are all about,
always ignoring all sorts of distraction,
bewitched by nature’s law of attraction.

©one_eyed_poet

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Photo by Louis Hansel @shotsoflouis on Unsplash

Red hot and pulsing resentments keep my oven preheated.

Let’s cook something that I make all by myself.

Let’s begin by chopping off my pride,

Wait for a few minutes until my heart melts all over the place like butter.

Now I throw my bones into the saucepan until they pop,

I forgot to mention: Knife is my favourite in all of culinary.

Rich red sauce is my secret ingredient,

So I’m gonna wring my wrist and pour everything.

(Supp………)

The perfect taste of misery!

Don’t you dare forget to pay compliments to the chef?

Credits Insta: @heysaloni

©one_eyed_poet

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