souravmudgal

Don't turn the lights on.

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  • souravmudgal 22h

    Temporary

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    You said summer has always been your favorite but winter has always appeared to me like an abode perhaps it is because you said I broke you into pieces that forced me to see myself as cold-hearted or maybe it is because of the demons who speak too loud in anger when I sought warmth in your embrace.
    Can you kiss me with the ashes I left charred in your mouth and throw me into oblivion till dawn breaks into the dark,
    I will be there spitting the blood until the red turn to blue.

    ©souravmudgal

  • souravmudgal 2d

    Probably this is not the right time for me to confess something to you but my soul and heart couldn't take it any further, probably this is why I'm here writing about the things which I couldn't say to you when you are around.

    I remember I once asked you to hold my hand I was weak then maybe I'm still but this doesn't bother me since the day you hold me. I admit I don't love you maybe this is because I don't want to lose you. I've spent years on reading love book that was written by the people who was unsuccessful in love maybe this is why sometimes I don't feel like to write on you I'm afraid that I may turn into those poets who once felt the same for their indefinable metaphor of love as I do for you.

    I know you're curious about love, you said its decided whether we last long enough to die for another being, to see another as if they are the lost part of ours, a beautiful part that we always desired. I won't say that I don't believe in love, it would be a shame to those poets If I say yes but my concept of love is utterly different from yours. I didn't see it beautiful or as a blessing, I see it as a curse instead, a curse which will left us broken, a curse which will lend us only a unhappening life.

    ©souravmudgal

  • souravmudgal 3d

    I have a story hidden in me for you but before I disclose it, pass me the spliff you left rolled and make me numb, slow down the blood in my veins until it flows out, I will ask you some question without expecting the answer but a hum instead, your voice is the stifled venom that is killing me smoothly.

    With the sole soft spot in my heart and antsy eyes, I will look at you until you blink and then I will tell you that this was a setup to invite you so you won't leave me as you did before.

    Once you cursed me by saying that I will be alone, your voice still buzzes in my ears before I sleep and possibly this is why I'm sleep-deprived. I wanted to give you something more than the butterflies, something other than definitive acts.

    You hoped for a story with a perfect end, I will tell you one without actually being in it,
    there a protagonist lives in a forest, in between beautiful trees with his lady who sings, love was in the air, love was in the water and in everything but what's the purpose of such story.

    What if I say the lady sings for the demons to sleep, you'll instantly reckon me as the demon but I was neither the demon nor the protagonist, I'm the sinner struggling to detach myself from sins.

    ©souravmudgal

  • souravmudgal 1w

    I have desperately
    caged myself
    at the bars, we were
    there once raising
    our toast, you shared
    the last sip of your
    bourbon and I'm still
    hoping for that
    taste but it appears almost
    tasteless now,
    yet I gulped it down
    knowing I might
    need it to sleep.

    Half alone I'm always
    exposed in
    the slumber with the
    senses of being
    mentally unstable or
    eagerness to appear
    thoughtful perhaps
    it is to cover up a
    devastating mindset.

    ©souravmudgal

  • souravmudgal 1w

    For a moment can I keep
    my guilt aside and
    engage myself into a
    pillow fight just like before,
    I see, you are here again
    can you recite your poem
    a little louder I want to
    sleep early tonight.

    Don't turn on the light
    to see if I will
    actually cry, would you
    stay there behind the
    curtains and hear me
    saying the bitter truth.

    How sad it is even when
    you are here, I found
    something is missing
    maybe it is because I can't
    actually see you but your
    voice always lingers when
    my pen caresses the
    grubby journal.

    ©souravmudgal

  • souravmudgal 1w

    The aftermath of the
    hush inside my head
    always results as
    some words, stabbed
    on my fingertips but
    they couldn't bleed.

    I stood long enough above
    the bridge constructed
    through the pallid bones
    of survivors, my feet drift
    to the end but not in a
    sensible manner you may
    call it a mystery or
    name me as schizoid.

    Words are the only thing
    I crave for, I always
    wanted to end my verses
    in a soothing way maybe
    there is nothing that appears
    soothing when I write.

    Synonyms take me to the
    path where I get caught
    by the people who sob
    silently or sometimes I catch
    new metaphors of pain.

    ©souravmudgal

  • souravmudgal 1w

    I took a heavy breath after breathing
    the cold night air in, the pale moonlight
    was scattered everywhere on the
    streets with unsettled eyes I looked to
    the apartment where the single light
    in the topmost room was seeming like
    a moth to the candle inside me.

    The wind was whirling those leaves
    who had lived their life, in the night
    full of uncertain stillness I walk alone
    and looked back towards my house
    it seemed blue as if I had died on
    my way to the unknown, to me I was rather
    a dead or was hardly breathing for the
    malady of life, in every way that
    I had figured was leading to death.

    The me who was screaming, howling
    like infuriating dogs past midnight,
    was hidden so exquisitely inside me
    that I never knew it exists,
    few hours down I threw my cell phone
    and wondered who will pick it,
    will he be able to answer those calls
    which I couldn't.

    ©souravmudgal

  • souravmudgal 2w

    As the evening falls down the blues
    with maddened birds everywhere
    crying their last, I walked into a
    dingy room where she was waiting
    for me, she waved her hand at me.

    She looked almost joyous out in
    the sun while I was seeping
    coldly with the taste of grave
    in my mouth, I escaped her words
    and wrote mine as the last drop of
    ink smirked at the journal.

    I drink and vomit, I smoke and cough
    like a fool coquetting a symphony.
    For, I've realised that my soul will be
    sent to hell soon.

    Against all the uncertainties I drink
    deeply not for the paradise nor
    for the lie of love but for the death
    that is the decisive phase of love.

    ©souravmudgal

  • souravmudgal 2w

    Never in my life, I have felt so
    vulnerable that I root myself deep
    to hide in shadows of withered leaves.

    Now I'm feeling it, at the moment
    of longing and thoughts
    full of sins I sowed a tree.
    You may call it a broken hope that
    I have put together with my
    bruised knuckles and bleeding fingers.

    I have seen an oak growing rapidly,
    without companion their moss
    hung precariously from the branches
    all alone and I found my cusp in them,
    an explicit segment that pierces happiness
    until I taste the sludge within.

    Frailest leaf often falls but the
    strong last long I disguise my sullied
    thoughts in their shade. For, they
    divulge me more in my rants.

    ©souravmudgal

  • souravmudgal 2w

    Smash the glass that glitters like gems everywhere on the floor and I will walk upon them, you may never surmise what I think as I shiver. There's only one thing I need, for a moment close your eyes and pretend to sleep while I walk around because at the end of the day I always end up alone listening to the blood that rushes through the veins.

    I'm battling to my monsters but we both know how far it will go, don't open your eyes, you are helpless too. Don't make me say it, just keep the bandages out of my sight I like myself when I'm bleeding. I'm not dead yet not exactly, I swear I will end up with the void inside me like you've taken out the part of me but those were already dead.

    There's a whiskey unseen underneath the bed, you've already emptied it for me and I will shatter it for you. This is the part when you want to wake up but you are not suppose to watch me bleed. You keep saying I love you everytime, let's not talk about it until we get it right, not because I don't believe in it but because I don't believe myself.

    ©souravmudgal