my curls wrote this

If you try and ask, you may actually get what you want. Twitter: @inked.original

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

A horror scene I live through when I see it happen over and over again is when a man kneels down in forgiveness and a woman forgives accepting she was meant for sleeping on a bed of lies that isn't fed to her but what she binged on by herself

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

I have a realization that I'm alive everyday and it dies right before you call.

I drown in the depths of a feeling, where I'm unable to see or hear anything but my heartbeat thumping against my chest.

Is the proof enough that I live on?

But I don't fight or try to get back up, i float yet I drown,

how can you breathe clearly when a foreign substance flows through you, it doesn't control you but it stays within you, it's not evil or good, it doesn't feed at you or you off of it.

I have a realization that I'm alive everyday, and it dies right before you call.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

I wish I could know who was the love of my life,

Even if it was for 5 minutes.

I begged them to let me see, touch, talk to my love but they couldn't let me in on their little secret.

So I pretended to play, and convinced them to let me meet my love when intoxicated enough to forget them,

But it was enough,

Enough to linger and dream about.

I may forget when I wake up but I would know that my nights won't be lonely and my dreams always vivid.

I took my chance and took the bait,

Tried my best to not get intoxicated, so I could remember their shadow,

To recognise it when it falls next to mine.

I pleaded and begged,

I couldn't help but to forget.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

Longing

To: Mera intezar karne wale,

I hope when we are entangled in each other's lives, I don't come home after 2 hours of commute -sweaty, tired beyond belief, aching not just physically but mentally as well. I hope you don't get to see me this way because I want to come home to you when I can look at you, speak to you with a present mind, not only with scattered glimpses and drops of attention. I hope I can give all that energy and time to meeting you halfway instead, because waiting for you has been like waiting for a train at a station. My anticipation has no end. I hope you never have to see me dejected, close to tears. Because I have only imagined wild eyes searching each other in places unfamiliar yet exciting. Full of energy and light, never so tired that I couldn't meet yours. I mourn for the lost time, you could have met me when my eyes used to shine. When my walk had a skip, my laughter still childish, my hands always itching to hold, and my heart open to love. My heart may have aged like a long-lost letter between old books, but I still believe my eyes have kept that shine tucked away, waiting for a time important enough.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

The silence now feels unbearable,

I'm in the same room I have been in since I was 18,

This room has witnessed my heartbreak, my anger, my friendship, my hopelessness, my courage, my tears, my dreams, my toss-and-turn routine, my acute insomnia, my anxious wake up calls, my rotting Sunday's.

Yet,

Now the silence of my room echoes.

Nights seem unbearable, maybe because my words aren't with me nor is anyone else.

I'm not sure if it's loneliness anymore, because the presence of another makes me stiff in my own bed.

Maybe it's the silence in my mind or the white noise, can't seem to differentiate.

The usual make belief doesn't have the same appeal anymore.

I worry, now the presence of another wouldn't feel like love I longed for Evermore.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

I feel the most uncomfortable at night,

With my hands free and not under someone's arms,

My legs restless, unable to find the other.

My sense of smell lacking the scent which remains on the pillow next to me , which could be my favourite perfume.

And I let myself feel the loneliness till I meet you again , for the first time ever

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

I don't think a man would understand,

What is it like being a woman in a shop of hungry eyed workers.

What is it like walking in an alley you aren't familiar with,

What is it like to catch your old neighbour staring into your window of your bedroom, or

The elevator door closing when a drunk man stumbles into you , with no leftover space.

For this reason, i would rather sit with a crazy woman than a sober man.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

I have so much rage and sadness within me. I'm always conflicted about what to do with them.

I want to tell my friends about the thought that has been dragging me into the ground but I end up deleting what I type before I even think of sending.

Because I feel my sorrows are repetitive and pathetic. As if I should be smarter than that. I should know better than to remain stuck in the past. That my sadness is only in my mind which was built on my own delusional thoughts. I curse my need for love. It is the reason I feel so much anger, because I lack it and it makes me mad that why not me.

I want to run back to people who have the ability to love me just a little bit. At least they could. My sorrows amplify that the love I deserve has a threshold, which will always remain empty.

I wish I could reach out to my friends, without shame and doubt. I wish I could speak the words without attacking my self worth.

My sadness grew since I was a child. I was the easy child, who didn't need alot of attention. I always thought the ones who got attention, were the ones who were loved more. I was only loved by my sister, she never thought I was hard to love. And everyone loved her, because how could you not.

I resent my thoughts which are filled with envy. I envy anyone who is touched by love. Those in it or those who are loved yet they don't reciprocrate. I envy everyone around me who is easy to love. I envy their ability to be found by others. Their ability to be seen and . Get the attention they deserve.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

Dear friend,

life has been a little weird lately. the small things that I skipped towards out of joy, don't bring me the same joy anymore. I'm a person of people- the pleasing part may be disappearing but my need to observe the simplicity of life of a stranger never did waver. I want to know if the uncle who lives on the left still walks on his terrace in the evening or the driver of my neighbour still helps his young daughter while she skates around the flower pots, I would still like to see the street dogs climb in the small space the cream coloured house on my right when it rains down too much, and maybe even listen to the laughs of the toddlers that echo from the house behind ours. As I said, I'm a person of people.

but lately, when I go out to meet my loved ones, I seem to not stay present. As if my mind tucks itself away in a blanket, and lets my body language and my unusual silence be my witness. life has been weird lately, I may be in a time where I need more comfort rather than adventure. but I'm a writer, I write about my people and how I feel when I am with them. if my heart tugs away, how am I to exist as I am meant to be. I may be evolving but I don't want to evolve out of being an overly romantic writer. my words have been betraying me lately because my emotional bucket has been on vacation, and I feel like an agitated boss who can't get anything done without it.

I am a person of people. somehow I have never been a person to myself. I like to be filled with stories of others and let my own evaporate out of me. being a person has been a weird experience, especially lately.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

I'm a thief

I read poems that swells my heart

Writing words picked from love build by others.

I'm a thief

I climb a wall,

To only peak at life

Lying to myself that I lived it.

I'm a thief

I walk around your art like a beggar

Snatching what you give out for free

Which lead me to think,

I'm only a hoarder.

Collecting art when I have no space on my shelves,

I push through a flood of rhythm

Which stab beneath my feet

This home has started feeling a bit strange

It's walls have started to reject me

I'm only a hoarder

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

I woke with different eyes today

Faces layered but spines uncovered.

I never seemed to guess,

That we held our secrets between the curves of our spine.

All bruised and colored,

I never dared to look back at the mirror.

It was easier to turn my back to others,

Hopeful someone would replace the missing parts ,

Filling them with their secrets.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

Every Sunday, i would walk from my house till I reach you

You were always surrounded by flowers, and the smell of soil after rain

We never needed words to love, but I knocked on your grave,

Thrice, like always.

Hoping you would crawl your way out to open that door for me, so I could crawl in and lay with you again.

You could scold me for not bringing you flowers and forgetting to put sunscreen,

And I would be able to see you just for a second , maybe for a minute too

You never layed still, kept your leg on me to feel comfortable,

Are you comfortable now my dear?

I felt like a mad man,

But they say digging you up would disturb your peace, so I agree to not be selfish

But I walk towards you every Sunday,

To knock thrice, like always

Hoping you to knock back.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

I yell and scream in agony that pours out of my soul,

Give me someone to love,

Give me someone to fight,

I wait here day and night,

As my heart bleeds for its loneliness scraps around with a sigh,

Give me someone to love,

Give me something to cry,

How could I be punished so harshly, left to be without a person , for whom I could make a million pies.

Give me someone to love,

I'm tired of waiting

I have loved wrong

I have loved right

Yet it's not enough

Because I need to give all my love, before I close my eyes.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

If I were alone in a cafe around a corner, where old couples and close friends came around.

I would talk to the Baker as I wait for my coffee. I would sit alone because I could. I would sit with your memory as though you were on my left looking at me talk animatically with the cafe owners.

I would be so used to your breathing that if it weren't there, it would be too quiet. Your absence feels like a threat to my reality, I choose not to tilt and look to my left. As long as I look ahead, you are still beside me.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

My smallest encounters, my questionable dreams, my questions to the universe, my desires from myself. All these I share more with you than with myself.

Happy birthday, may you exist as long as possible and may your life stay cute and interesting.

Your favourite stand up specials, your playlists, your detailed perspectives, your love for cute things, your short personality in your tall body. My human diary.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

When someone asked me to write about my day and how I felt, I was clumsy with my words and played hide and seek.

But in the middle of the night, on my small phone , I write page after page about the day I met you or how you squint your eyes and tilt your head to smile at me.

I may be clumsy with myself, but I hold you with steady hands. If a tide swept me away, I would keep a part of myself afloat , for you to look at me as I drown.

[radhikaromanticizedagain]

When someone asked me to write about my day and how I felt, I was clumsy with my words and played hide and seek.

But in the middle of the night, on my small phone , I write page after page about the day I met you or how you squint your eyes and tilt your head to smile at me.

I may be clumsy with myself, but I hold you with steady hands. If a tide swept me away, I would keep a part of myself afloat , for you to look at me as I drown.