January, February, March, April, May, June
Six months that haven’t passed too soon
You drifted, you grew
You laughed, you flew
You let yourself be
You did as you pleased
Absence of solitude lingered on your lips
It’s what you needed to taste
But the keys to the tank were in his hands
And you were locked and drowned instead
There has to be more
This couldn’t be it
You were so sure
What if it really is?
It’s not what’s done that hurt
But you were left to scrape against sandpaper
Smoothing out splinters,
Chips of his words
Was it so easy?
Did this have to be done?
Sit down and ask the heart, not mind
Was it all just for fun?
January, February, March, April, May, June
Six months that perhaps passed too soon
You are not weak
You are not what they make you to be
His ego was hurt
Perhaps you’re still meant to be
You’re stunned by your strength
And you know he’s hurting more
You said what was right
But it was his choice to let you go
You're barely in pain
So you shouldn’t regret
But don’t let your hopes
Become a trap
You know it's the attention you crave
Not his love
You're proud of how you've been brave
Don't just give it all up
January, February, March, April, May, June
Six months that passed too soon
You've yet to encounter this phase
So I'll keep it brief and plain
Regardless of whether you're still dazed
Don't let your affair with solitude seep down the drain
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My new poem Chhah Maheene (Six Months) is available in hardcopy in the 5th edition of Lot's Wife magazine! It's always surreal to see my work on paper, in print; being able to hold it in my hands. If this time last year someone had told me that my poetry would be getting published (twice!!) I would've probably told them to shut up and stop giving me false hope lol, but I'm here and I'm so grateful for these opportunities! Thank you to everyone who supports and reads my work!
(Chhah Maheene means "Six Months" in the Hindi language)