Love and Pain 

You can break my heart, 

Time and again. 

Let it shatter to pieces,

And shower like the pouring rain. 

Take the half,

That belonged to you then, 

Scribe on it a scarlet letter- 

My love for you that died unspoken.

Whether it’s love or pain, 

They’re both a throb to the heart. 

Whether you knew or not, 

It still would have broken me apart. 

© Abirami 

A Poet’s Tale

A poet’s soul, 

Is neither kind nor forgiving. 

We have been hardened by life,

And moulded by its strife.

These are things we are not born with, but acquire:

Eyes that reek of judgement,

Tongue bitter from the taste of truth,

And an imagination that defies gravity. 

These are things we do not dread, but desire:

Nights devoid of sleep,

Passion that burns a hole through your heart,

And a mind that obeys no one.

© Abirami

Writing

Not knowing what to say,

Not knowing what to write. 

It has never been the issue.

Having too much to pour out,

That endless train of musing, 

It goes on a journey 

From too much truth to heartache. 

Putting pen to paper is like,

A vacuum to the heart. 

In the end there’s a dirty bag of poetry, 

And a soul drained of all emotions. 

© Abirami 

Inside Out

I write away my sorrow

It is the only way I know.

Spilling ink thicker than blood.

Leaving behind words in place of scars. 

They said, Be the change and the world will follow.

I pretend to be reborn.

I tell myself that I am the change.

And the world did follow,

On Instagram to mock at my expense.

Some people see a few familiar faces and call it home.

What if I need to look at hearts and not faces?

When I look through those chunks of rock

Will I still be able to tell them apart?

This mind of mine colourfully black and white,

Scatters them into piles of two

They all judge me for my depth

Some look at my pockets and some my poetry. 

© Abirami

Masks

Who’s turn is it today?

Will it be,

The ambrosial lover, or the mad cynic? 

The unforgiving critic, or the loyal advocate?

The curious child, or the unimaginative adult? 

A different mask a different day. 

Take it off and what are you? 

A reflective vessel of scars and hopes. 

© Abirami