u/HumanDragonfly9627

The love or heartbreak has never been on our part,

'cause by birth we were assigned to work hard.

I have tried a thousand times to clutch my throat,

to numb my brain,

to break my paintbrush,

and never feel the touch of rain.

'cause I must stick to the outlines

without contemplating silence,rage, melancholy or pain.

My teachers have warned about how my thinking is always

beside:

"Karnike, beyond the horizons has always been in your

sight."

I have seen my fellows and peers soaring so high,

cause they know there’s a hand to catch,

or some land of their inherited sky.

I could never learn, like others, to walk in the lane;

sooner or later I came to know

I'm not privileged enough to afford this complexity and

pain...

Mamma, I'm definitely making all things difficult to

comprehend:

I feel too much,

I care too much,

I ask too much,

I am oblivious too much.

It's obnoxious and that's what I hate.

I would bleed day and night,

just to show I'm not the tragic victim of my unprivileged fate.

I could not stop myself from complaining again.

I stood out in the crowd,

and all they did was diagnose my brain.

I have always been scared of a certain gaze,

but what's scarier than that is their hot and cold blaze...

Silver spoons are really brilliant enough to blind our eyes.

The misery is that I have never grown used

to the suffering and the cries.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/LWyCj9Ve7M

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/NgBmOPJFL3

So you too feel it strange when your cardiac begins to whisper,

When your retina always scrolls back to the same Homo sapien,

And you hate your reflexes when your emotions get messed up with hormones,

The struggle to teach the division of labour to your own organs and bones.

And oh, the ache to see that creature being divine-

But Love, you will have to go, you'll be lost in fog,

You hate inconvenience- you'll sit & watch (just for the sake of not being obvious)

I feel the way your cardiac will melt like the wax...

Still you'll not utter a word of pain.

My love, you would be mature enough to understand me

Yet not be able to cross the outlines,

I see no horizon.

I end stories badly:

sometimes from pain, sometimes intimidation,

sometimes out of boredom or the ache of longing.

I romanticise suffering too, but I love the fairytale for real.

You speak in CuSO4; you think I despise it- but

Trust me that's the most attractive thing I found...

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/00hdSITLJo

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/qSZUVa7B1I