Tag: broken heart

The Ones Who Still Love Me

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia2 Comments

It’s the third day
Since you left
Me.
The crying is now intermittent,
Between daily chores.
They interfere with the tears,
So, sadness lies hidden
Like the truth you never shared.

The ones who still love me
Become vocal.
They blame.
I cannot.
I’m in love.
It’s masochistic.

I regress into my room.
Fearful their love
Will terrify mine.

I can’t blame.
Not them. Not even you.

It’s all a matter of
Love.

Logic may appear –
Bringing a scale –
When promises and the past
Are measured.

It may.

Right now I deal
With hiding tears,
And countering
Future fears.

A Few Days Before

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia1 Comment

It’s a breathlessness
That’s engulfing
A sleeplessness
That’s terrifying.
A sense of loss that’s worse than
Bereavement –
Because I know you are alive
But I can’t get to you.

You can’t say I have
Not made you smile
With love,
Hugged you hard, when you were sad.
Even if I caused you to cry,
When I felt bereft.

I am falling in a limbo
And
I am blind
because I love you,
And
all I feel is pain
Because you aren’t here to love me back.

You say I won’t keep you happy
But a few days before
You wanted me
A few days before you missed me
So much
You felt a breathlessness
That’s terrifying.

A few days before you loved me.

In Two Days

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

In two days, words were spoken that left my heart quite broken.

It wasn’t a complete shattering; but a shrewd, quiet battering.

I wonder why words matter so, when i quite plainly know, that those who willfully spoke meant words to painfully stoke vanity and vulnerability, which I hide deep within me.

But the heart shelters these two with that which has kept me true.

The words flew in and struck, and i was quite out of luck, they lashed and broke quite a bit – I’m still reeling from the hit.

A corner here, a chunk there, no word was lost to barren air; so I nestle chips and dents and, through this poem, it vents its bitterness and loss of hope, wondering how I’ll manage to cope with the ideal of love inside the reality of pride.