Anxiety

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

It does not give a warning.
It is never, ever, kind.
It comes like a hurricane,
Playing havoc on the mind.

The heart allows it entry.
The brain never has a say.
Time becomes a mad whirlwind
That demands the present pay.

It’s falling in ice water:
The lungs are about to burst;
There comes the gravest hunger,
With the most terrible thirst.

All the world becomes a blur,
As the hurricane breaks you;
And if you are not grounded,
It will ravage and take you.

Unloving

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia2 Comments

I do not know how to unlove.
How is love unmade?
Do I cut down the tree,
So that it doesn’t give its shade?

Do I make a new skin
That you could never touch?
Is unloving more than I can love,
Or is it not as much?

Do I forget you in a new today?
Must I love another to do so?
How do I forget what I promised,
Just because you chose to let go?

I will love another, I will love more.
You are you and he will be he.
I will keep loving you, my love,
Unloving, for me, just can never be.

Again

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

There’s a rush of roses
And sweets smearing my hands!
After all this time, I don’t think
My heart still understands –
It’s wary, yes – it’s unsure –
It’s much quieter than before;
It lies, in tremulous wait,
Of what lies in store.

But there’s still a rush of want,
There’s sex and there is hope,
So It quietly believes, still,
That it can cope
With whatever the future brings:
Sweets and roses, or bitter thorns,
A flight upon angel wings,
Or an impaling on demon horns.

Silly thing, why can’t it give in –
To life and all the lessons learnt
And the dreams, of a few years ago,
That now lie wasted or burnt?