letters you didn't recieve pt.2

 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