letters you didn't recieve pt.2

 Taaree Zameen Par childhood pretty much makes up our personality, the way we grow up, the way we behave with others, the way we want to be treated and almost everything within us. If you ever ask me about my childhood, the main thing that'll come to my mind without any go would probably be how careless i was, the messy kid, eating food 24x7, playing all day, wearing pink colored outfits, dancing with my friends, watching weird cartoons, sleeping at any given time. honestly, what not? i know there's no "perfect life" but for me, yes, that was more than perfect. simple and peaceful. one of the things that really made me so tranquil has to be the gadget free world. i barely used a mobile phone, and that was precious. life without gadgets can be precious too. my whole entire world revolved around my school, friends and family, that was pretty much my whole routine. if i could go back to those days, i really would, without a second thought. why is childhood so important? ...

 to be hideous and courageous at the same time, is to write until the last drop of ink is left and wait in response to the epistle  knowing there's no ink nor anybody to write back to look at and to be looked at  is to hire a photographer  just to pose melancholy coveting to be an artifice of a candid camera  to be intrepidus and introvertive at once is to wait for a text message knowing you'll never recieve it  no matter how much you change  to be the poem for once and not the poet is an obscure feeling  cause i, very well know that I'll never be the poem but waiting is still on my mind and yes I'll probably be the poem,  when people read out the obituary, on my very final death day but that's just a half known expectation maybe I'll be the poem  the day i have to leave  but isn't it disturbing? to not read the poem,  only the very time ill get to be one. and maybe I'll be the poem. not the poet. for once. - chaithra.  28...

 leave me in the clouds, in the dark, in between the crowd  in between this cruel nightmare and in between all the things I cannot bare. make me shine in the sunlight and leave me alone in the middle of the night like you never ever knew who I was  leave me on the road between the cars. leave me for myself and let me handle this  let me handle this like nothing else  leave me in the time of my death  leave me when I take my last breath.                                  --chai 13/12/22

 I look at the stars, now that you're gone  they say dead people are alive in the clouds, I hold grudge in my heart, now that I'm alone I wish you could come back so that I could make you feel proud.  I miss your voice in between all these chaos  my heart runs, wondering if this is a nightmare I wanna connect all those detached dots I look at the mirror, oh I miss the way you care. I rumble through your notebooks I wish I had made some time for you  I barely eat, now that I miss the way you cook I wanna appreciate you, with a bow. the fragrance in your clothes  the flower that you planted, ah the way we grew the window we painted, the breeze that blows  all remind me of you.  I wish you were alive, my star but you are always immortal  you are a piece of my puzzle, my lil rockstar you are my only portal. - Chaithra 

 love proses? you know, how every poem about love makes you wanna fall in love, but, for me, everytime i read a poem i don't ever wanna fall in love ever again love proses scare me, they are like rainy days  you enjoy them when rain flees soft and low, giving a comfortable sleep once the rainy days are gone, you've to bare the effects it bought, the trembling thunderstorms, my heart cracking sounds, when i read those proses aloud after love's no more alive it scares me and leaves me shaking it scares me cause it made me write about you, think about you you who won't always be with me you, who are just a piece of people in my life it scares me to read them again, to hurt myself to always lay by you, when you're gone it scares me, cause when I read them you won't be here again. -chaithra 3/10/2023