The Duel

You see me,
knife in hand
approaching
slowly,
like a menancing
predator
aiming
for your heart,

you know me
and so
you know,
the danger
is real
for i won’t stop
till i get
what i really want,

you could run
but
you don’t,
for you know
between us,
neither
is predator
nor foe,

and i smile
as you too,
slowly
pull out
your own,
shiny
retaliatory knife,

it’s fun,
when you know
your adversary
so well,
and whose heart
falls victim first,
only time
can tell.

© vidursahdev 2019

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Bits of Me

Pic: Self

i release
all blues
that clot
my red,
for the mechanical
heart,
has a job
to do,

and yet
i drown,
in an
inexplicable
grief,
for the loss
of a joy
that remains
undeniably
mine,

but now
exists
beyond,
my instincts
of wanting,
to water
to cherish
and
to hold.

© vidursahdev 2019

Handshakes and Goodbyes

You’ll never
understand why,
i extended
my hand,
for that one
last handshake,
this
one last time,

for irrespective
of the past,
presently
perceived enemies,
don’t often exchange,
sweet
amicable
goodbyes,

but you,
unintentionally
cleaned up,
an entire space
of a mess,
i’d been unable to
even acknowledge
in this lifetime,

and i
thank you today,
inspite knowing
your opposite intentions,
that your actions
held,
in the wicked vaults
of your mind,

as the possibility
of new possibilities
in that space,
melodiously resonates,
with the sound
of the song,
i joyfully sing
to myself tonight.

© vidursahdev 2019

The Ghost, and Me

Pic : Self

scrub scrub scrub
i go,
on skin
memory and soul,

trying to erase
your trace,
from every place
it bored a home,

causing the pain,
like a sweet
toothache
to resurface,

like a non rent
paying tenant,
lingering
refusing to go,

and tired
i eventually give up,
smiling
at the effort put,

but humbly
accepting,
the futility
of it all,

for sometimes,
inspite
of the seeming
spookiness,

it can be
quite comforting,
to have the company
of a friendly ghost,

than entertaining
the thought
of being without it,
and feel alone.

© vidursahdev 2019

Me and the Mask

Pic : Self

i thought
i was
done wearing masks,

for what good
is a face
that can’t speak its truth,

but truth
is not
a priority it seems,

and reality bites hard
before
it chews,

a pasted smile
at the entrance
of a hurting heart,

is valued
far more
than its river of tears,

‘don’t tell
and don’t ask
what really ails’,

and you’ll
be welcome
just everywhere,

so learning
the ways
i pick a mask,

which ignores
the thunderings
of the internal clouds,

ignores the storms
that lay siege
to the brain,

a mask
to mask
all that is not,

but a mask
that always pretends
to smile the same.

© vidursahdev 2019