Category: Written in 2022

Float or Sink

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

Why is it that some men love fiercely –
Just in the beginning,
Once the quest of love – and lust –
Is done, the fire abates?

Maybe it’s true of humanity:
After you get what you want,
You don’t want it.
Marilyn once said,
If I give you the moon,
You’ll grow tired of it soon.

But then, why is it that I still
Keep reaching for what was promised?
In fact, I base all my love on it.
Why is it that as I love more
I feel yours slipping away?

Am I not a man?
Or am I not made for this world?

But I have learnt from this world:
My efforts will eventually fail,
Others shall make me feel and think;

And if it is meant to be, we’ll float,
And if it is meant to be, we’ll sink.

Suicide

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia7 Comments

I wish I had the courage
To take a blade to my veins –
And after this body dies,
See what really remains.

I can’t for the life of me
Think of ending it all,
Though I gave up on God
And fear no Great Fall.

If science has me as dust
And conscious free, let it be.
If I face a god, I’ll also see
Those gone once who truly loved me.

But the world has knifed me,
With love and belonging,
Yet it denied me faith
And ripped me with longing.

I guess, if death is to be,
It’ll eventually be.
I fear to make it a slave
To my sickly vanity.

So, though the fan and blade,
Terrace and sill tempt me well,
I choose to linger here and on,
Through life’s own heaven and hell.

Do Not Touch Me

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia2 Comments

Don’t touch me,
If you do not want to.
I am more than
My love for you.
It may be full,
It can be blind,
It is what elsewhere
You will never find!

I am beautiful
And I am kind;
I have a heart;
I have a mind;
I am my body
And though it wants you –
Do not touch me,
If you do not want to.