Category: poems

how to write poetry.

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

I have a feeling I wont be able to keep up with NaPoWriMo’24. I had to write 30 poems and here we are with 3 poems at day 13. I have tried writing everyday and the fact is, I have. I just haven’t completed 30 poems. For this month, I’ll do like 2 poems a week. More realistic of a goal, isn’t? Praying to all poetry gods (and to Dhriti). Have mercy on me. God bless. 

to write a poem one has to bare 
his naked soul on a window seat
inside a caravan to nowhere 
is what great philosophers say 
but today i’ll tell you what they really mean 
be 6, inside your house on a rainy day and watch your dad open the forbidden cabinet 
he takes a swig and then two 
and you ask what he’s drowning into 
he screams at your tiny self
wake up at the tender age of twelve
to screaming matches of your parents 
sounds resembling demons from hell 
16 and beg your father to stop 
his horrid ways of coping with life, 
plead till you drop 
in the meantime 
make some friends, lose all
make some poor decisions and make embarrassing falls 
fall in love, fall out of love for self 
be the man and regret never being the girl you once thought you were 
reminisce your childhood for what you never lived 
curse distant relatives for what they did
gossip and learn, indulge in books, 
banish socialisation and human interaction 
regret about never being your truest selves’ fraction. 
read Faulkner and the kinds, 
be indecisive, do not make up your minds 
and then when you have had enough and the blade is at your wrist 
pick up a pen and scream into the abyss 
write like the world’s on fire and your words can save the day 
be young, be the hero,
be the lover, be the villain, 
be old and be grey 
find people who listen when you scream of  the end 
redefine your definition of a friend 
trust more freely 
give people yet another chance
gamble on your first romance
be rigid 
and then be flexible with your stance 
think deeply but don’t forget to be vast 
don’t forget the lies, for the idiom goes- jack of all trades, master of none, is always better than master of one. 
forgive all, but be selective with what you forget
get a tiny dog, a tiny cat, or a random pet
do not let go of the pen that made it all possible 
start writing about the hard times 
move on to brighter themes 
be stuck in darkness then suddenly 
find sunshine beams 
be a flower. follow the stars. 
fall in love with the moon, despite of all the scars. 
i hope you understand now what it means
to bare ones naked soul on a window seat

Thanks for reading. Bye snakers.

Only pride and no prejudice

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

This is my first time doing NaPoWriMo- a friend of mine was kind enough to make me aware about the existence of this challenge. And I was excited enough to be able and willing to do it. Here is my first entry- first of 30.

The challenge has prompts- optional, but I am not creative enough to write 30 poems without prompts. The first one said to write about a book plot- a book I hadn’t read in a long time. Here’s my version of pride and prejudice, and my recent discovery that I had in fact lived through a couple scenes in the book. Oh how I love Mr. Darcy. 


I was walking through the ruins of the mansion above the ocean
When I came across Darcy
Running through the grass fields by the ocean
He held his vision high and mighty
A strain of his hands
Flex of his fingers
And I came to the crude realisation that he wasn't inked on paper anymore
He was there- and I stood dumbfounded with a vigour that changed my bones
My own gown dipped to the core, from the rain that soaked my flesh
My flesh and my conservations
He was a god to my devotion that had no place to go before
I screamed at Darcy, he couldn’t be true but he simply swayed 
To the beat of the sun and the clouds that covered the rays
He shone so bright
I had to close my eyes
He had done everything to help my existence in the oceans 
And what had I done?
I didnt know- doesnt matter
I wasnt aware- I was too rude
But the look in his eyes
The simple acceptance of my being
The adoration of my smiles
The simple loving of my skin
And I couldn’t fathom he didnt ask for anything in return
What was this man- no Darcy wasnt this humble
And then my eyes burst into a thousand lights
And I saw myself sitting- in a temple- far away from the mansion above the ocean
And there sat my Darcy
In his glory, on my lap 
And the world made sense 
Only pride and no prejudice for the man I thought didnt exist
But my life had colour now,
Gowns dried down and flesh scratched
He kissed my scars away
My Mr. Darcy. 

The purpose of the challenge is to simply write. Not write masterpieces. Therefore this piece. Please forgive my horrid writing.

Bye snakers.

17 is a weird age to be 

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

I turn 17 today if you can’t guess by the title already. Anyways, this is the confusion of being 17.

Also Lana Del Rey has my heart.

At the age of 12, you wonder if you’ll ever reach 
independence large enough to get a coffee on your own
Wonder wrapped in 14 year olds when you reach the mall 
and with wide eyes you glance across the massive structure
16 is the epitome of innocence 
and between childish humour and the age of universal suffrage, 
There’s the little awkward 17. 
I dont know what to do when I turn 17
Is it a day to mourn my childhood coming to an end 
or to celebrate the nerve wracking 18?
I am closer to 20 than I am to 15 and it is not fair 
It is not possible, I know I was 14 a couple days ago
Such a weird age to be- 17.

All songs are written for you but you relate to none of them
Such carefree grandeur 
Falling in love, falling out of love
Falling in general 
But I seem to be balanced 
And yet such sadness 
And the moment I turned 17 
I understood how fickle time was
There’s so much left to explore
And it feels like I’m almost done. 
My teenage has almost come to an end, but it’s still there. 
Almost- that is the word to explain my year. 
Almost an adult but not quite, 
Almost a child but too old now
Such a weird age to be- 17. 

I do not know if this will remain, 
The confusion, the chills
I study the entire night
Yet my mind is somewhere else
Did I loose my golden years?
Are they still out there?
Am I there? Will I ever be there?
Such melancholy 
Such a weird age to be- 17. 

It’s almost as if the number is stuck
Stuck between the shiny bright 16, where the world is at your feet
And 18 where nothing is yet investigated
There’s the little 17, 
Timid, shy and awkward
What is it about? 
Such a weird age to be- 17. 

But its not all regret muffled by a birthday cake
Today I feel liberation. 
There is so much yet to see
So many friends yet unknown
Many opportunities yet untapped
And even if it were the end today
I wouldn’t feel entirely too bad
It was a good ride, one to remember 
Almost there but not quite. 
Such a weird age to be- 17. 
Such a weird age to be.
Such a weird age to be.

Goodnight snakers!

Poets and Kings

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

Inspired by the song ‘soldier, poet, king”

I thought I’d get poet. I got king. Very fitting indeed. 

Born with a sword in hand, he was meant to rule
Spoke his words with symphony sadness forever ensued 
They couldn’t be more different even if they tried 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 

The one with the crown, which shone ever so bright
Wished he could give his responsibilities away, even if just for a night
The one with the mind bound to be hazy, 
Wished he could stop thinking about the horrors of existence
And not be as lazy
They couldn’t be more different even if they tried, 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 

Both were tired of living with a burden
One with the role to give away his life,
During the battles of Buxar or Verdun alike 
One living a life that seemed so carefree it was almost an illusion 
Only the poet knew that it was just a delusion  
They couldn’t be more different even if they tried, 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 

This isn’t to say that they didn’t have their own perks 
But shiny houses could only bring so much identity  
And not having to saving a kingdom could bring only so much serenity 
Living as imposters in their skin, 
They had been curated by their own kin.
They couldn’t be more different even if they tried, 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 

He woke up at midnight almost every day. 
With ideas blooming in mind, some he wished went away. 
He was a tortured soul having seen the world raw, 
He knew they could chew him up so he had to put up a thick wall

On the other hand, he was fed with gold, 
Silver and diamonds were used to make his home. 
He had no recollection of when he chose to bear the throne, 
He could only remember his years alone. 
There weren’t many, who shared his sadness 
Only few were meant for this madness. 

On a doomed full moon night
Both of them sat up straight, 
As the moon sparked through their windows, 
“why do i have to grow
why do i have to do anything
cant i just let my demons consume me and simply die” 
They knew that was just wishful thinking, 
They knew the moon was their only linking. 
They couldn’t be more different even if they tried, 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike. 
This is the melancholy of poets and kings alike.

Thanks snakers for reading. Love you all!

tears of a student

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

before I start talking about this poem- a quick mention to the prompt I got at WordPress. It said to write about my father or a father figure in my life, and to that I say, no thank you WordPress I’ve trauma dumped enough here already.

Anyways, sorry for being awol for months. I hated writing for a hot second there. I hated reading, writing, even calligraphy. I think I have successfully, burnt out in my senior year, not good timing. I think today’s poem is very reflective of how I have been feeling for months on end. Board exams are near, entrance exams are near and you’ll be proud to know I am failing my exams left right and centre. I might have to make blogging a full time thing after school. Senioritis is a real thing, but I am feeling is more than a mere ‘I’m so done with school’ its a full blown- I will fail and will end up homeless and alone on the streets.

I will give these last couple months my entire heart and soul because fairly, I DO want to be just done with the subjects I study at the moment because I love love love political science and international politics and history and sociology and English and I want to learn those in university as soon as I possibly can, because the sheer amount of tears physics and chemistry have made me cry out is actually insane.

I present to you- tears of a student. 

Everyone has a best friend that is not me, 
Everyone knows what they want from life, just not me
I click on the ‘undecided’ tab under major preferences because I see
I battle
I fight my inhibitions
Why do I feel so worthless when I think of how I love to study the world
Not in the scientific sense, unfortunately 
I hate that I love subjects that dont seem to make any money
I hate that I love paintings and music, and arts and dances
I hate that I’m not smart
Why is that I am the furtherest from reality when I need to be aware
I am a product of sheets and marks
Social media consumes me from inside out
A soul sucking addiction I can’t seem to get out of 
I hate myself for making decisions I regret
I have an irrational superiority complex
Each night as the tears that were meant for my happy events
Gets soaked by my pillow
I fear I will wake up the next day with 
An email meant for another
But it will say, in bright bold letters
Failed to discover.
Recover myself from my empty desk 
Full of ambitions I have neatly folded and kept
I dont know if I have the courage to look at them again
I matured too early, but I am too head-fast
I know that I am not as smart
Academic validation is my craving
Like a vampire searching for its prey
I am tired of feeling this way
Please  let me have a year
A year of pure discovery 
I want to learn and travel
I want to know what it feels like to be alive
And not be restrained by just another institution 
But I am not as bold,
I crave stability and risks are scary
I am just another cliche 
I failed myself and my parents
Just another disappointment, waiting to be discovered 
By the monsters in my head, feeding off my regret
My leg hasn’t stopped shaking since the last year’s result
I know I can learn given enough interest 
Its just that my love lies in the hall across from mine
But I never had the courage to listen to my heart, 
I hate that I love to pick myself apart 

It’ll all be over soon but I fear,
It might be too late to save me from myself
I’ll drown in an abyss unable to breathe
And I’ll die sinking thinking of myself
As a product of yet another unresolved destiny.

I would in fact, love to be done with physics and chemistry.

Bye snakers, hopefully see you soon!

men cannot cry

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir 
And then he wasn’t the same
He cried alone at night because 
Men aren’t supposed to tear away
Its shameful, its a sin
You cannot be vulnerable, 
You cannot be sufferable
Men cannot be defenceless
Men cannot be fragile
Because the moment you show that you are helpless
The gods will believe you are not suffice
But is it really so bad as to be sensitive?
To be open and cry
Because I’ve tried both ways of living
And it takes guts to be weak and 
Admit that without being high.

So the story behind this is kinda sad, there is this one guy in my chemistry class that was telling a story in a free period about one of his injuries, he was telling how deep it was and how much blood he lost, although when I asked him about why he smashed his hand in glass in the first place he said something along the lines of ‘ah my family- never mind its not important’ and it killed me to see how painful the memory is, or would have been for him. I’m not that close to him and I couldn’t or rather, shouldn’t have pried deeper and I didn’t. But I did mention it to one of his friends, I couldn’t even go to the teacher because I dont think he would like it or appreciate it, he has a ‘bad boy’ aura about him, but I’ve never seen him bully anyone or do anything wrong, so its more of a ‘tough guy, won’t cry’ situation. You know how teenage boys are, the typical kind. So basically I wanted him to cry, because I know he’s not reading this, he doesn’t even know I have a blog, but if by any means any teenage boy who is scarred is reading this, it literally is really tough for all parties involved, the person who probably knows about you, you, and the people who dont know about your issues, but love you and would rather help you than see you suffer. The kid I was talking about, he uses many things as a distraction from his pain. He has a girlfriend, which even though I can’t judge the relationship, I speculate is only for show. Not gonna lie, her girlfriend is also very similar, exactly same to be honest. So I think it is a symbiotic relationship. Anyways, he uses alcohol, women and sex to hide behind. He’s a nice guy, a respectful guy, but I really wish he talked more about things that hurt him rather than things that he can boast about. Everyone has issues, I agree. But that is why I believe that everyone needs a little help. Humans are not meant to be alone. It’s just not in the chemistry of us.

Anyways, I think this is the first time I’ve written anything real and personal here. I dont know, his expression while he said about his family just- disturbed me. I wish he would talk to me, to anyone and know he’s not alone. I can accord to that.

Bye snakers 🐍

Let’s talk about things that are possibly stupid.

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

A person makes various relationships throughout their lives and the general rule of the thumb is that relationships are fleeting. Be it someone as close as your mother or as insignificant as that one kid that offered you their chocolate in elementary school. Either that person makes you, breaks you or has no impact on your life; you create hundreds if not thousands of relationships throughout your lifetime.

I have no idea if you as an individual believe in fate or destiny or soulmates, but I for sure would like to look forward to that one special relationship that would change me for the better. When it comes to the idea of soulmates, I do not think that a persons soulmate has to be someone they are romantically involved with In my opinion, your soulmate could be a friend, your siblings or your parents, teachers, anyone. Anyone that just, gets you.

And knowing the amount of people I do know, I have realised that most people do not get the opportunity to even meet their soulmates which is pretty sad when you think of it. But this gives you one more reason to exist, doesn’t it? the opportunity to form this very sacred, very deep, very literally, life changing, relationship. This one person who would embrace you for who you are and would be the cause of your growth. Similarly you would change this persons life too. They would get you and you would get them. Every thought, every emotion, you would get it. Would accept it.

But at the end of the day, the truth remains, relationships and people are fleeting. They are not forever. Forever is false. Every once in a while you meet this amazing person, might even fawn on them, but at the end of the day, some people are just not meant to be anything. Not meant to be friends, lovers, soulmates. It’s not even our fault, we as humans crave validations and will seek it from anyone and everyone. We crave this sense of affection and sometimes we do get it and obsess over it. Naive people might even base their sense of happiness from a person, which is again, a stupid idea since at the end of the day,

say it with me;

RELATIONSHIPS ARE FLEETING, TEMPORARY AND NOT FOREVER.

unless you are like very very lucky and have found your soulmate, and life is a fairy tale where nothing happens to either of you and you live happily ever after. I doubt that happens alot, amiright?

anyways, I formed a very close relationship with this one person, long story short, covid happened, and we lost touch and she formed another very close relationship, possibly wayyyy closer than I could ever gotten with her. sure, I am extremely happy for her, but at the end of the day, I am human. Jealousy is something I am bound to feel and honestly, we as humans need to normalise feeling envy and jealousy. THOUGH harming someone is bad and envy is not an excuse for that.

here is the poem where I express how much I know more about this one person, how I am more closer and try to make the new friend realise how much they actually have no idea about this person. Not to say that they dont already know it, I am just being petty and thats pretty much the whole concept of the poem. A 15 year old being petty. Which again, not the most suitable situation but the most realistic. 

I wonder if she knows
How her best friends dad ditched her birth
How she hates her maternal aunt, 
Yet adores her paternal cousins
How when she says
'the other day' 
It could mean any day from her birth to yesterday,
And how that is copied off of a book she loves
How even though she doesn't particularly like books, 
She loves to read
How she doesn't particularly enjoy math
Yet never failed 
How she wishes to go away
But only with her mom
How her dad revolts her
But she cannot seem to give up
How that is close to me, 
I wonder if she knows how she liked history, 
But she would rather study english
How she learnt all poetic devices
In just a month
How she learns a new word each day, 
But never brags about it
How she had planned a trip to Europe, 
I wonder if her best friend ever thought of me
Ever realised 
I might be in need
Of just a shoulder to lean on
I wonder if she knows
I wonder if she thinks
I wonder when I'll stop wondering
And come to terms with
Having no-one to text when it all gets hard
Having to lean on myself
Needing only myself
Crying to myself
Because I tried being vulnerable before
And it didn't turn out great
Now I'm disgusted with relationships of all kind
But at the end,
It's ok. 
She was prettier,
Happier,
Friendlier, 
Better. 
And I wonder if she knows thats all that matters.

NO ITS NOT ALL THAT MATTERS, I SWEAR I WAS IN A DARK PLACE WRITING IT AND JUST REALLY JEALOUS, FRUSTRATED AND ENVIOUS.

DO NOT TAKE ME SERIOUSLY.

THANK YOU!

anyways, I would like to be your friend if you want one, just contact me on my Instagram handle.

bye snakers 🐍

what is anything anyways??

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

I overthink. I believe most of us do, or at least have, at some point. or you know those shower thoughts. or like late night weird ass things you question about the planet? like what if an alien attack happened RIGHT NOW, what would I do? or like if I was robbed RIGHT NOW what would be my escape plan? and sometimes your brain tricks you into thinking that this the best use of your time. to make an escape plan, of your own house. but my overthinking has a ✨variety✨

I can think of anything from ‘what if I met harry styles’ to ‘what if I had a more, chilled out family?’ and the last thought stuck with me, for a little while. what if my parents were the more traditional. the more normal kind? what if my brother was more calm and laid back? what if my grandparents were more involved in my life? what if I made more effort in relationships? and so many other ‘what ifs’

these thoughts are overwhelming to say the least. and honestly, they are tiring and a waste of your precious time on this planet, but I understand that it is hard to stop them, they are like this pesky little insect that just won’t leave you. and its hard because people may mistake your obsessive thoughts with being philosophical. which ok to be fair, in my case im kinda like this overdramatic wattapad fantasy writer?? I mean, I basically overdramatise every little thing.

anyways, like I was saying, stoping these thoughts is a long hard process, and im not a psychologist so I won’t even try to mention any techniques, though I’ll mention a few links that might help, right here

but sometimes, we do question everything. our economic status, do we deserve it? or do we deserve less or more? we might even question what it means to be a young adult? to be ourselves? to have friends, or family? at least I did question all of them-

here’s a tiny tad bit of a long poem with everything and nothing all at once. I meant nothing and every damn word in this poem : D

What is anything anymore?

Sometimes I question 
What would be my state
If I had a normal family
Would I still be up at 3 
Overthinking?
Or would my papa 
With his angelic voice
Put me to sleep?
Would he still be drinking away
All his problems 
Or would be he up and awake
And try to make a way 
For his children?
Would my mom be crying
Because she hates her husband
Or would they be a team
Like they promised in their vows
Reality is nothing anymore
People can change with the blink of an eye 
And that is freaking scary 
To be 15 
And know things that shouldn’t be known until later on in life
You grow up faster,
Correction, you are forced to grow up faster
And you loose yourself in the process
What is you anymore?
Do you cry 
Or not? 
Do you smile
Or not?
Do you think of magical fairytales
Or not?
What are you anymore?
You lost yourself 
The second your father 
Raised his bottle to his lips
The same sound that once comforted you
Keeps you awake
Wondering
Worrying
What comes next?
15 year olds shouldn’t be thinking about making money, right?
15 year olds shouldn’t be up at 4 am thinking of a plan to run away, right?
15 year olds shouldn’t be crying silently when the world is sleeping, right?
But what is a 15 year old anymore?
13 year olds shouldn’t hate the man who brought them to life, 
13 year olds shouldn’t be making comics of himself in a world without his father
13 year olds shouldn’t be wishing on someones death
13 year olds shouldn’t have to see their hero drown himself in whiskey and beer, gambling away and crying when he lost
But what is a kid anymore?
A wife shouldn’t want to leave her husband
A wife shouldn’t want to seek for divorce
A wife shouldn’t have to ask her husband to leave their children alone
Correction, her children alone
But what is a working mother anymore?
A husband shouldn’t have to ask her wife for money to gamble away
A hero shouldn’t have to miss out on his child’s life for liquor
A father should have to be the kind of man her daughter would want for herself not the kind of man she is told to stay away from 
But what is a father
What is a messed up husband anymore?
What are friends anymore?
The ones that leave when things get too messy?
Or the ones who stay
And make things worse?
What is family anymore?
The blood that connects them
Or the money that blinds their filthy actions?
At this point I’ve started to question 
Every thing I’ve ever known 
And for that I’m grateful 
Because I’ve known wrong
And treated them as rights
Its time I realise
That nothing is black and white
And nothing is anything anymore.

bye snakers, meet ya later 🐍

uselessness

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

hi. I have felt useless before. I’m so sure at some point, you have too. my condition might have been a little towards the extremity of the emotion, but im sure yours is just as painful. watching someone being harassed, or someone being rude or abusive to their partners, sometimes you feel as if you can’t do anything. to some extent, you can’t and its not your fault, but sometimes, you are in the receiving end of something unfair. that doesn’t mean that everything is automatically under your control and you can walk away from feeling weak and vulnerable, instead, that situation makes you even greater of a survivor. to have been feeling lost, weak, pathetic to standing up and hoisting your middle finger like a flag to all your abusers and uncomfortable situations is a long hard process and if anyone manages to get that done, they deserve all the love there is on this goddamn mud planet.

now, let’s talk about trauma. it exists, and your trauma is real. everyone has trauma, ranging from ones in the battlefield to trauma in their households or schools. childhood trauma is real, and it has the power to change someones whole fucking life, though whether it dominates ones life throughout is a question only the survivor can answer.

well, I hope you don’t really like my rantings, because

here is my ranting, but in a poem form : D

early mornings, late nights

Did you ever have to go to your mom
And ask her not to cry?
To sleep beside her because you were scared of what she would do 
Not to you but herself
Did you ever have to 
Hear her cry 
And sob 
Her shoulders shaking violently 
And all you could think about was to leave
Not because you didn’t love her
But because it was way too hard to see
Her husband
Is in the living room 
With a bottle in his hands
Like every other day
He doesn’t give a flying fuck 
And at this point
It doesn’t matter
You used to cry about every little pathetic thing
But now you barely shed your tears
If someone twists your arm to the best of their ability 
Or if someone yells at you for yet another mistake
Its as if, your tears are shy 
And petite
Only when you are alone
They seem to appear
In little tiny streams 
From the depths of your tired eyes
Slowly taking away every bit of life with them 
Across your cheeks 
Gliding over your chin
And falling onto your empty bed
Leaving your eyes hollow and lifeless
With each passing day
You can’t look at your mom 
And find her happy 
Because she rarely is
And as much as you’d like to blame her husband
You seem to find faults in your own self
She might not regret having you 
But you know that life would have treated her better
If she never had your useless self
There was a time 
When you had a father
And you could remember his eyes, sober
When he didn’t say things that caused your tiny heart to rip apart
When he actually talked to you
Without having drunk any poison 
And he kept all those ugly cards
And things are different now
The only constant is change.
He only talks when he’s fucked up
And tries to make us his slaves, 
But a day will come 
When I’ll leave 
I won’t even talk to them again
And believe me when I say
I won’t even wake up in the middle of the night
Consoling my mom 
Like every early morning, but in vain.

I’ve recently learnt that in case you relate to this poem even a tiny bit, please visit a therapist.

so, snakers, whatcha think of it? my online fiancé said and I quote, ‘the trauma tho, depressing, its beautiful im ur biggest fan’, so that positions taken, but oh well, she loves exaggerating shit for the ✨theatrics✨ of it.

bye snakers 🐍

childhood traumas lmao; a word dump.

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I have issues. Like every other human being I have issues. Some internal and some born out of external stimuli that I had or have no control over, and yes sometimes it feels like it’s my fault, in many cases it might as well be. But the thing is, I don’t have to blame myself over and over again, especially for other people and their actions. Now where am I going with this? I’ll let you in on a secret and then we will go from there.

Life is not perfect. No person that you know is perfect. No relationship is, no family, no friends, nobody’s life is perfect. And honestly, it’s time we as a society let that sink in and actually believe in it. Photos lie, people lie. That might be for various reasons, face saving, protecting yourself from societies remarks or any other reason, but to assume that if someone looks happy, they are; is wrong. Sometimes, people reach out but to the wrong people and then, it is too late to help. So many people stay in relationships they hate, just because of reasons they can’t explain, or are waiting for the right time to leave. And to judge them based on half truths is wrong.

Now what does that have to do with me? Lets just say, my life is not perfect either. I wanted it to be that, I really wanted it to be like the girls I see online, but the realisation came not so long ago, that their life had to be really messed up too. When I was younger, I wanted the girls that I look up to, to loose what they had. To have a life like mine. Problems like mine, because in my naive conceited mind, they didn’t seem to have any problems, problems like mine. But as I was scrolling through the internet one day, I came across this saying which went something around the lines of “Would it make you happy if they lost everything?” and that was when I realised, ‘Well, No-‘ and my perception, the very narrow minded perception I had, changed. Jealousy is an emotion we all know very well, but we don’t discuss it enough, it’s natural but we as a society have constructed this idea that those emotions are wrong, but the fact of the matter is, it isn’t. How can something that every human feels be wrong to talk about?

It’s about time, we talk about how our warped idea of a family, of relationships and of people affects us as a society. Heres a poem about, well its for you to interpret.

Gambles.

Sitting at the desk 
Trying to complete your math homework
You sit
You cry 
You don’t understand
But you try 
Its been a good 2 hours
Suddenly your dad comes to you 
Roaring with laughter
Happy 
Jackpot 
Win 
He won money
We can be rich
But dad, why?
Doesn’t matter 
He screams
Whistles
Intoxicated
You cry 
Of fear
Of anger
Of him 
Hours pass by 
Its dinner time
He isn’t here
Must be by the living room?
He had his phone
Might be earning money? 
Everyones asleep 
Its 4am 
You are awake
Hyperaware
Confused
You hear muffled cries
You go into the living room 
You gasp 
Unfathomable
He’s on the floor
Crying
Screaming
Muffled screams
Weak 
Stupid
What happened dad?
He won’t answer
You sit beside him 
Water? 
Food?
That might help 
You are scared
He never cries
Last time you saw him cry 
His mother died
What happened?
We lost it 
I lost it all 
What? What dad? 
Its all gone
A lot of it
Im gonna loose everything
Dad you need to stop 
You go the bathroom and 
close the door
You cry 
Disheveled
Hysterical
Useless
Unstable
Pathetic.
You wake up 
But can’t think of anything else
The amount is not enough to 
Make you homeless
Or kill you of hunger
You realise
Exactly how fragile
Reality is 
You can’t trust
You can’t love
You can’t be sure
You stay awake
Afraid to sleep 
Because you dream of 
Hunger 
Starvation 
You live each day in the fear
of loosing everything
Tired 
Stupid
The only thing that 
keeps you going
Is the fact that 
you have time
To leave him behind 
To start a better life
Without fear
Without cries
Farfetched 
But not impossible
You try 
But its too late
You never had time
Its over
Its all gone
You lost
You were never enough
Family is mere blood
Dishonest
Weak
Screams 
Muffled failure
It’s done.

So, a pretty dark poem, as I said, it’s up for interpretation. Snakers, this blog is turning darker by the minute and you should be here for it.

See ya later!