a little romance with life

Covered in mud from head to toe I don’t like the way I look anymore So messed up, so dirty, so gross No, I don’t like this feeling anymore It’s a dream, I know It’s out of control, I know It isn’t real, I guess But I just don’t like this mess Insects are crawling Mosquitoes all around It itches so bad And yet somehow I can’t get myself to wake up Then all of a sudden In this crazy dream Someone arrives and walks up to me It’s the mud doctor, I believe To fix me, to get rid of the mud Takes me hand, and starts to dig it out Digs in deep, does the best he could Digs too deep, more than he should I look at my hand It’s horrifying I look again It’s terrifying There is no skin, no blood I have no body I am the mud.

Keep stalking him till the liberating day When you realize that you’re okay with not knowing About his statuses and who they were written for, When he last came online and who he spoke to. Keep following his steps Between the pillars of Facebook and Whatsapp To see if he has left even the slightest footprint of his thoughts On the vast sand of social media. And when you find those footprints Dig deep till you find shells, and bones, and bottle caps Keep looking for that one item of yours That once belonged to you The one that you gifted to him The item that no longer knows Who it belongs to.

I wonder if it would help if I knew how you kiss And your favorite place to kiss, I want to know how you’d hold a girl when you realize  you love her; And how your body burns in her presence; I've tried to imagine your smile when you see her, And how your breathing slows down when you hug her tight; I imagine your eyes when you look at her And all the things that must be going on in your mind. I wonder if it would help if I knew, Because I just can’t stop thinking about you.

Fall in love with a person who is quiet Someone you’ve never spoken to And from the corner of your eyes you can make him Anyone you want him to be. The steps are simple I will walk you through them- Find a face you like, a height of your choice But never ever have a word with him Though it’s okay if you think about his voice, And when you chance upon a conversation centered around him, quietly walk away; Imagine him listening to your favorite songs Dancing alone as he cleans his room; Close your eyes and see him lying down on the grass Staring at the stars the way you do; You can choose whether he’ll be gentle or rough- Any way you’d like him to be; You can feed him with all the right words, All the beautiful acts of love, All the strengths and weaknesses you can bear to adore; Think of his family the kind you would like And place him in a hometown you’ve always wanted to go. Fall in love with someone you’ve never spoken to And every man...

On the pages of the accidental poetry notebook Is a poem about a room, the one that makes the poet incredibly happy For every day she finds pieces of herself in it And revels in the chaos that the room shows her to be But now that she has gone away The room feels like something else to her For every time she returns to it, it seems bigger and older Reminds her of days that seem way back in the past And all her favorite things belong somewhere else now The stories she left behind are now covered in dust And that always makes her sneeze Sleep comes with great difficulty at night. She can’t decide who is to be blamed For the way she has changed, Or for how the room has hardly changed at all It still looks at her as the person she used to be And every time she leaves, she whispers this room no longer belongs to me.

For a while now I've wanted For a writer to fall in love with me For I've always thought of myself as the perfect subject for poetry, so that I could search for my fingerprints In the words that he writes. I've also wanted since a while For a painter to see the beauty in me I know I don’t have the perfect body But I've wished to see a lover put down on a canvas How love makes his lover look like the most beautiful person in the world. I've wanted a singer to sing for me All the songs that melt my heart; But all I have is you You, the person who repeats the same things in his letters again and again You, even the hearts you make look disfigured You, you know no words to the songs, let alone the tunes But on days when I feel uprooted, lost, and alone You, all you do is make me feel like home.

This is my response to a beautiful poem by Kamala Das titled The Looking Glass. You can read the original here- http://www.poemhunter.com/best-poems/kamala-das/the-looking-glass-11/ The Looking Glass: A Response Getting a man to love you is easy But ask yourself first if you are willing to love him back. Don’t stand nude before the glass with him don’t let him see himself the stronger one when you know that in your softness and youth you can break him when you leave. Question your infatuation. Notice the imperfection Of his ways, his body weakening as he looks at you, the shy walk across the room, Dropping hints, and the timid way in which he shows you his penis. All the gross details that might make you fall out of love with him. Offer him your worst, offer him what makes you who you are, the stink of your longings, the burden of anger between the breasts, The monthly stab of menstrual blood, and all your Endless sorrows. Oh yes, getting A man to love is easy, ...