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You can find your presence, in the cracks,
Every time my heart affects with quakes.
Even if shattered, still can find your tracks,
As my whole heart is yours, even if it breaks.

My love was for you was an ocean,
Splashing towards shore as everlasting waves.
Needed your love true, yet had to ban,
When I see my heart, for you, it grieves.

You left me, to feel ashamed,
I wore your love as an attire,
You stripped them off, I was ******,
exposing my heart to elements of fire.

Was I the broken one?
that you taught me to beg.
Yet I learnt to stand a true man,
Realizing my grave has been dug.

I was drenched in waves of love,
Would’ve stayed even if you were a tsunami.
The true love I offered, you didn't approve,
Filling yourself on my innocence and devoured me.

By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
Kerri Aug 2024
Until the morning
I will be dreaming of us
And what we will be


Fire in your eyes
Igniting my heart ablaze
I can't turn away


My heart trembling
Like the ground beneath my feet
Call it a heartquake


Dreaming is easy
Being awake...not so muc
My heart aches for you


To say I miss you
Is a vast understatement
I can't seem to breathe


Communication
Something you severely lack
******* cowardice


I opened my heart
Vulnerability *****
I just wanted love


Manifesting peace
To run throughout my being
A broken heart, healed


Healing comes in waves
I'm learning to love again
Better, without you
AMAN12 2d
He resembled Abraham Lincoln in views and looks,
a jawline carved from principle,
voice like a verdict that never needed volume
and I followed him like a nation follows myth.

He was my assigned mentor,
but I choose him for my infatuation.
I studied his pauses more than my syllabus.

I traced words dressed in restraint
and sent through an unmarked number for weeks.
But he knew my cadence,
the way I break a sentence,
the metaphors I reach for
better than I knew myself.

That day,
clouds were shedding incessant tears,
my purple umbrella and his yellow raincoat
were not a match made for this weather.
I stood outside the library, clutching my diary
he stood holding his helmet.
A whisper reached my eardrums
through the hurricane winds-
'People who come together for minds
do not exchange hearts.”

The building behind me, its shelves,
its silence, its sanctity crumbled
into my chest.
The heartquake wasn't loud, just exact.

Wet slippers took my drenched heart
to an ice cream parlour.
Ordered a parfait for a perfect shakeup.

My thumb still remembers his number,
But knowledge has tied it into a fist.
It was a shakeup... not a breakup.

— The End —