Your blaring echoes of
"Are you fine?" are ringing around me,
And I scream that
Yes, I am okay;
But we both know well
That I’m constantly functioning on a
Five percent battery these days,
And no charger seems to work for me.
I don’t like to admit it, but
Every morning I
Choose a brand-new smile from the box on my
Dressing table
And I plaster it carefully in my face-
It’s a new lie to tell,
A new character to play
And a new pass-time till I’m back to solitude.
"Why are all your poems sad?" you ask me,
And I don’t have an answer for you;
You see, my brain finds solace in
The wash of blue that’s all over my soul.
It finds its way to spill out through
I write of burnt romances
And beautiful tragedies,
And whisper aubades when a sleepless night
Stretches into early hours
For joyousness can never a truthful
You must understand that
I treasure these sad poems
For chains grip every curve and edge of my brain
And surges of feelings tend to clog up without an outlet;
So I never judge a catharsis by it’s melancholy.
I used to balter but hands and legs are stiff now
And guitar strings snap at my touch
So I turn to these words,
Giving life to mere scratches on the paper
To make broken strings of
Meaningless conundrums;
Before I know it, I pen
Cries of confusion
For a world that knows how to hear, but never how to
So I don’t expect anything from you too,
And I promise I won’t judge,
But I’m sure you’ll see shades of 
Bright Yellow, flashing from underneath the blue
If you just
Read my words
And then close your eyes to just

Shivani Joshi