samyuktha_wordbay

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19 years old and a world, of heartbreak, tears and timeless love...

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  • samyuktha_wordbay 27w

    Hiding her face as much as she
    could with the extraordinarily
    large hat, black and all,
    she walked away as quickly
    as her legs could take her,
    hoping nobody saw the blood on her sleeves,
    she sped through the empty roads...
    Quarantine, they called it,
    it was her only chance to hunt
    her demon,
    the man lying dead on the once, busiest part of town
    was the one who tainted her
    innocence years ago.
    Her white dress, now,
    torn at the shoulder and knee
    was sprayed with blood,
    it was still warm,
    for the kill wasn't too long ago.
    She wanted to yell at him
    as she chucked the knife into his neck,
    the artery bursting open,
    enough for the hot liquid to drip down,
    she wanted to tell him,
    read him the letters
    she had written over the years
    for him, in the hopes of putting them at his grave.
    Old and frail was he,
    but his eyes were still as sharp as the
    day she remembered,
    tides of lust-filled gazes,
    she felt disgusted...
    all those years of blaming herself
    for being his pray,
    for being put through all the pain
    just because he wanted some young flesh,
    it's warmth making him feel youthful,
    but what about how she felt?
    She sure didn't feel like a woman at the
    age of... well, is it important?
    So she walked through the stony pathway,
    hoping no one noticed,
    but the part of her
    that felt like she had finally achieved something,
    wanted to parade the
    man's head through the streets,
    blood still dripping off of it,
    she wanted the world to see
    that she had killed the man
    who made her feel all
    those awful things...
    She still wanted to put those letters on his grave,
    for his perverted soul
    to read and enjoy
    the ways he had made her heart cry,
    as if it had been peeling onions for the longest time.
    Pride, she felt
    as her heart swelled with
    the happiness of one less burden.

    Read More

    Pride and... Does it matter?

    Her white dress, now,
    torn at the shoulder and knee
    was sprayed with blood,
    it was still warm,
    for the kill wasn't too long ago.

    (Entire poem in caption)

    -SAM

  • samyuktha_wordbay 27w

    I'd rather be somewhere else
    than holding myself back
    from the things I want to do.
    I'm such a disappointment
    to myself,
    serenity of my mind is lost,
    like a lunatic, I'm wavering
    through the insides of my mind.
    I've lost a lot of people
    who promised me they'd stay,
    trying to put pieces of their puzzle together
    I lost myself inside the lines.
    I hate myself for being so vulnerable to the people in my life,
    what if...
    what if they leave as well?
    I despise it when I can see the tears I've shed,
    they say that mirrors don't lie,
    but why does mine?
    It must be because I love acting,
    to the world and to myself...
    I hope every time I spew words
    that at least they can
    mirror the state of mind I'm in.
    I met somebody a few months ago,
    yes, I'm going back to where I shouldn't
    even be,
    but he was really nice to me,
    and there went my heart,
    hoping and trying to get his attention,
    I crave someone to see me
    for the crying mess I am.
    He could be the one,
    or maybe not...
    but for now,
    I think his loveliness is all I can ask for.
    I promise I'd lose the tiniest
    ray of light
    if he decides to leave
    and seek the darkness it has been trying to
    get me away from.

  • samyuktha_wordbay 29w

    I've stopped breathing through my lungs,
    fist clenched, singing through my eyes...
    nose bleeding,
    face contouring into the pain drenching whispers in the air.
    It was all for nothing,
    storms running through my heart
    setting a fire in my head.
    I'm done with everything that I have,
    swimming in tears
    of another's love
    for me... let me break through that shell,
    soul shattering spell
    binding me, bidding me
    a good time.
    Oh magic tree, lend me your ear,
    I beg for a reason to go...
    Oh summer wind, show me your hand,
    I bet there are slashes you hide...
    Why me?
    Will the rain try to blind me,
    for I refuse to walk
    through your will,
    dive in to the depths of fascination
    for nothing.
    Roses with thorns,
    I saw only the stem...
    piercing the skin
    they brought me to wincing pain,
    none that you ever gave,
    glory to the times that were spilt
    on the ground,
    with every lonely leaf.
    Now I breath...
    through my poetry,
    for every word is a part of me,
    every verse
    is a story I unravel
    for the world.
    My soul is naked,
    wishing I wasn't so insecure,
    but my oh my,
    I wish all the layers I peeled open
    could just come back
    and stay in its burrow.
    Now that you know,
    what will happen?
    Alas, I know...
    You'll keep breathing through your nose,
    leaving me behind and
    between the lines I wrote.

    Read More

    Breath

    Oh summer wind, show me your hand,
    I bet there are slashes you hide...

    (Entire poem in caption )

    ©samyuktha_wordbay
    - SAM

  • samyuktha_wordbay 29w

    Stuck inside, to the mellows of my chest
    are the colors we painted,
    the colors that have me imprisoned
    in a dimension
    I never thought was possible.
    Strikingly bright,
    breathtakingly soft...
    shells of rocking melody
    hitting the ocean floor in me,
    touching every inch of what
    I had,
    the greys of a gloomy sky
    washing away fears
    as rolls of thunder shuttered
    my being.
    With arms so gently lulling me
    in and out of consciousness,
    invading the cracks and crevices
    of a heart drenched with paint.
    The blues of serenity
    pelting away tears
    as they fall.
    With kisses of fluttering
    butterfly wings,
    warming my soul's contents...
    Yellows of the sunlight
    pouring in through our windows,
    of happiness and beauty.
    With shallots of misery
    wiping them away,
    dripping into each other's souls.
    Maroons of a pleading moonshine
    settling in a nest
    the stars built,
    swooning at the fireflies as they
    lit up the darkness
    they held.
    With palms of mist,
    cleansing the smog
    of the flowers as they cried.
    The pinks of flesh on flesh,
    sinning together
    with breaths mixing,
    eyes tearing up
    as they are blinded by
    showers of the wind
    capturing the essence
    lingering around.
    With strands of mane
    shying away
    from one another,
    clasping on tightly
    to hope.
    Paint from the canvas
    is chipping away,
    not the blues, pinks or whites,
    but the yellows.
    You took a piece of me,
    you took my yellow.

    Read More

    Color my soul yellow

    ( Entire poem in caption )

    ©samyuktha_wordbay
    - SAM

  • samyuktha_wordbay 29w

    Ruefully yours...

    Talking about myself has become the new black,
    falling for the little things I'm bad at,
    the melancholy I always keep tuning
    at the back of my head.
    Today I think it's gone overboard,
    my heart feels constricted,
    throat a little dry...
    I think my blood pressure is shooting sky high, oh, I've never been one to exaggerate too much.
    I owe an apology for being the way I am,
    for being secretive, dark and unhappy.
    I'm sorry, for being a weakling who cannot fight my tears and anger,
    I'm sorry for being the epicentre of drama, trust me, I hate it too.
    I'm sorry, for being the woman you despise, the woman you walk away from,
    blaming everything on me...
    Oh no! I'm not the victim though.
    I apologise for laughing too loud,
    for being a little on the heavier side...
    but I promise, I'm working towards your standards of perfection!
    I'm sorry, I love the snow, leafless trees and the cold wind,
    I see myself in them.
    I'm sorry for talking too much,
    I just don't have anyone else.
    I apologise for crossing paths with you that day,
    for telling you how good your talent was... starting a conversation... I'm sorry.
    I've been weighing myself down,
    for the heaviness of my heart
    is greater than my body,
    the scars of yesterday
    will tell you the tale
    I wanted to...
    I heard people tell me that
    I'm more than just a girl who writes,
    I'm more than just a "wallflower",
    they told me my makeup doesn't define me
    and the extra tooth only made me more likeable.
    People, they told me I was more than just a woman who cried,
    assured me I was strong
    in spite of the tears I'd shed...
    They let me know that it was easy to talk to me,
    to understand me,
    to confide me...
    I believed them,
    I really did,
    until I crossed paths with you...
    I didn't regret being in your life,
    for you promised me I was your sunshine,
    held my hand so tight
    it hurt...
    But I kept smiling,
    you helped me out
    of a broken place.
    2 years... Oh wait! It was only 1,
    I swear it felt like a lot more...
    I felt my secrets were safe with you,
    pouring my heart out into your Pandora,
    I sailed with you through storms and warm mornings.
    I should have known that things get old,
    I was your doll,
    a doll you grew to dislike...
    I should have known that mornings
    set to evenings
    and the dark was too dangerous to sail through.
    My melancholy continued,
    playing through every time
    my heart plummeted
    out of false hope.
    My mirrors were all smoked,
    they refused me any insight
    of who I had become.
    I'm sorry that I like being sad...
    here I thought I'd find a happy place,
    but proving me wrong,
    I wanted the ground to open up.
    I am no Angel,
    fairy or sunshine like you claimed...
    I am sick,
    a sick person
    who lost another person she adored...
    If I quieten down the way I laugh,
    walk away from drama,
    stop eating my meals for a skinnier version of myself,
    love summer or spring, for that's what you love,
    and stop ranting...
    would you still hold my hand?
    Would you still sail with me?

    ©samyuktha_wordbay
    -SAM

  • samyuktha_wordbay 30w

    Sometimes I look at my eyes
    through yours, I see how
    things used to be
    or could have been.
    I loved the breeze tossing
    my hair around,
    grass swirling beneath my feet
    and the geese flying happily.
    Somewhere between now and then
    I lost the appreciation
    I held for simple things.
    I forgot how much I loved my reflection and how I loved to style my hair...
    I forgot how my mother's sambar was the best thing ever, I was always the first to taste it fresh off the stove.
    I forgot how dad used to chase me around the house to help me with that tooth that was close to falling.
    Now a smile tugs my lips at the memories, lost within myself.
    Life was simple back then when the only thing I had to worry about was getting my hair in a pigtail,
    running for the school bus
    and never being late to class.
    I miss writing about candy and toffees,
    Christmas and Halloween,
    I miss myself,
    the girl with missing teeth on the front row.
    Things have changed,
    I've grown with my shadow to someone I don't recognise anymore,
    time has taken me away from simplicity that I would love to have...

    Read More

    Me, when things were simpler...

    Prompt suggestion #1

    (Poem in caption )

    ©samyuktha_wordbay
    - SAM

  • samyuktha_wordbay 30w

    Keys on my piano tangled with the air you just breathed,
    fingers of mine holding you a prisoner,
    a prisoner in my heart...
    The strings on my violin moaning with every step you took towards me,
    breath of mine clasping pockets of emotions within...
    Notes of music mingled with your every movement,
    oh goodness gracious me! How are you so perfect?
    Songs written for you, the melody being you...
    Limits and beyond, the hills and mountains bound,
    relaxing to your charisma,
    arms wrapped around that charm
    I let the band play,
    forgetting to orchestrate,
    for our fingers fell in love,
    refusing to break their embrace.
    The guitar strummed to your heart, beating as fast as mine,
    droplets of rain resting on my cheeks as we forget the world outside of the book so divine,
    a toast to the feathery touches you planted amidst wild flowers,
    to the sweet, loving chants of chorus you had written...
    Lean your head on my shoulder this once,
    the heavens are looking, listening to our song with ears wide open, eyes shut with euphoria.
    We're more than just two people in love,
    we're the scars of our previous lives,
    living each moment of truth, guiding us through the holy grail,
    no chime could have contemplated
    that you and me...
    we lived four lives and still cannot
    get over this feeling of falling
    in love. Music drugging us,
    dragging us, tying us together
    for four more.
    Tickles of the ocean wind
    salting our skin, garnishing love in its kitchen to serve at night fall.
    Oh, Mozart of mine...
    don't let this feeling die when the song does,
    when the moon shines and ocean throws herself at the shore.
    Hold me close until the end of times,
    until those four lives expire.

    Read More

    Eight lives

    We're more than just two people in love,
    we're the scars of our previous lives...

    (Entire poem in caption )

    ©samyuktha_wordbay
    - SAM

  • samyuktha_wordbay 32w

    Didn't know how much I hurt you
    until I saw through that wall of yours,
    I took every frown as a rejection
    to my hand,
    I was in the dark and I knew
    I was no one to pull you out
    of the dry well
    you fell into...
    But my Angel,
    you sat with me in the dark
    and I failed to see just
    how much my nails were biting
    into your skin...
    I smell the blood now,
    I feel your pulse right beneath
    my finger, I wish I could
    go back to not holding you,
    but you've become one with the wind
    that I need to breath you
    to survive.
    I'm hurting too,
    for I'm making this worse...
    I thought I'd stitch you up
    but I was no healer.
    Sloppy stitches and gauze
    on your wounds,
    I feel elated that I'm putting you down...
    Elation of drinking up the water
    as I drown with you.
    I'm not confused,
    I'm just so used
    to our laughter harmonising,
    sorrow hugging and tears mixing...
    can we just fall into an embrace?
    Can we just put this story away?
    I'm here to fall with you
    for I'm nobody to catch,
    I can wipe away only so many tears
    until I start a river of my own.
    Darling, I'm begging you,
    can we skip these episodes
    and glue this rift?

    Read More

    Pool of darkness

    I'm not confused,
    I'm just so used
    to our laughter harmonising,
    sorrow hugging and tears mixing...

    (Entire poem in caption )

    ©samyuktha_wordbay
    - SAM

  • samyuktha_wordbay 32w

    I've lost my mind
    to the confusion in me,
    talking, crying, rocking
    myself to sleep,
    but the crack of dawn starts with
    a gentle kiss from you.
    Trying, taking things slow,
    weaving threads of apology
    behind every petal,
    squeezing tears into the end
    to pacify your anger,
    subside your hatred.
    What have I done?
    Turning away from what
    could've been just you and me,
    calling you now, three thousand fifty times.
    In this state of mind
    I'm consumed by the rose colored glass
    laughing at the illusion,
    making me bend at the gut feeling
    of losing.
    Liars, we both were
    with the knuckle whitening grip
    we fought for dominance.
    Now I'm swaying my hips to the music
    of the dead,
    push me away, pull me closer
    than ever.
    Like the bells to the wind,
    my heart to your breath...
    will I end up at the corner,
    picking on the paint,
    scribbling away
    this story of obsession?
    Fluid art, blood stained collar,
    drenched coat and a dagger
    to accessorise...
    I'm close to moving out
    of my body,
    every time I see you
    my hands grip my hair,
    ripping at the roots
    to ease the heartache a little.
    Maybe this fantasy of killing you
    will make you stay
    and take away this feeling
    every time, lingering.
    Maybe when your breath doesn't fall on my skin,
    I'll learn to live with peace...
    Here I am,
    knocking on your door
    with the knife I kept dreaming about...
    I'll see you in a minute,
    oh just you wait my darling,
    I'll put you to peace,
    I'll let my heart ease.

    Read More

    Viciousness

    Like the bells to the wind,
    my heart to your breath...

    (Entire poem in caption )

    ©samyuktha_wordbay
    - SAM

  • samyuktha_wordbay 34w

    I'm not sure how much longer I can go
    in this journey, all alone.
    Sirens blaring into ear drums,
    they're nimble and hurt
    from all that they've heard.
    I can laugh for all that I know,
    stomach hurting
    from the impact of the cuts I gave myself,
    what do I do
    when perceptions take over me?
    Every chair I try to sit in
    already has a character drawn,
    blending in I say nothing,
    for who am I,
    than my own reaper?
    I know my eyes give it away,
    the torture of burning
    in my blue flames...
    Leaves crumble beneath my feet,
    a part of my soul
    shattering with the noise...
    I question, ponder, wonder
    if I'm finally insane,
    I hope it was just that... I'd have had a reason.
    Feels like everyone looks at me,
    seeing right through the lies I've built
    around myself, a blanket so cozy
    I don't want to share it.
    I'm not sure how much longer I can go
    in this journey, all alone.
    Tears dried, I've tried
    to wipe the traces,
    but they've burnt the skin around my eyes...
    Rimmed it with glasses,
    cleaned it with water,
    what more can I do
    than finally letting my cries out?
    Fist curled I'm walking the runway,
    for all that matters is the face and body language,
    hiding fresh cuts
    I smile, with a heart to hurt
    whenever I please.
    I'm not sure how much longer I can go
    in this journey, all alone.

    Read More

    Falling, failing, reviving from the light.

    Every chair I try to sit in
    already has a character drawn,
    blending in I say nothing,
    for who am I,
    than my own reaper?

    (Entire poem in caption )

    ©samyuktha_wordbay
    - SAM