#poetsofficial

A storm is happening in my bedroom

She is vicious and violent

Removing her costume,

while the room is silent.

When I lost you

I pushed aside a part of myself

that no longer felt safe.

I created a new girl,

one who didn’t overstay her welcome

This girl knew distance,

and how to only show just enough

and never too much.

A girl who built herself into a corner,

because being backed into one

can’t be so uncomfortable

if you’ve made it your home.

Sobs traveled through empty halls,

and I listened from my bed.

Unable to make out lost words

I Inched down the staircase,

until I could see the keeper of the cries.

In the distance, she collapsed.

Cradling her head in her hands

knees locked firmly beneath her,

she reached for him,

screaming

“please don’t leave me”.

maybe i’m a hypocrite that i want you to remember me when i forget you - ishani

Do you think about me the
way I think about you when I’m
lying on the floor, in my bra and
pajama bottoms, hair down?

Do you think about me the
way I think about you when I’m
lying on the floor, drunk and
alone, wine in my blood causing
a little bit of trouble?

Do you think about me the
way I think about you when I’m
lying on the floor, high and I
kind of wanna cry, because
I’m so fucking alone?

Do you think about me the
way I think about you when I’m
lying in my bed, and my head down
in the pillow, but I’m pretending it’s you?

Do you even think about me?
Do you even dream about me?
Do you even say my name in the back
of your mind, wishing that you hadn’t pin
pricked my heart with your finger before
licking the blood of the tips with a smile?

I hope you don’t notice my facade - ishani

I’ve suicide inside
of my body, hurting me,
yet I’m finding it hard to leave,
so when it continues hurting me,
these insecurities disconcerting me,
I like to disguise it down into the gutter,
spilling these feelings down like water,
flushing it down and throwing it out,
I hope you remember;
I still want you to believe in me,
even though I am trying to
deceive you, me too.

our platonic world dominantion - ishani 

Sometimes i think that all
my friends hate me, 
or maybe,
i hate myself too much
that I drive myself to 
hate me hate them like 
they hate me too. 

But I wasn’t lying when 
i told you i wanted to 
rule the world with 
them. 

If you can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all - ishani

I don’t think I was made
for this world, I don’t
think that I belong here.
Maybe it’s pathetic,
maybe it’s not,
maybe it’s useless,
but maybe it’s not.
All these “what if’s”
and all these “maybe’s”
but my mouth forever
tastes like all the things
I should have said,
but instead I bit  
my tongue, swallowed  
them down and watched
as I said everything else
instead.

Lavender - ishani

I undo and pick at my spine,
for no certified reason,
and I want to note that down as a point.

So I find myself asking why –
-why do I write this?

It’s like writing people
hoping that they’d come alive
and be my friends (they do
in ways you’ll never understand.)

but I write them down still,
to forget
the details in the poems
you sent me;
handpicked from
the rose bush
in the garden,
and the lavender bush,
you use to lure me into,
only to sting me
with your twisted
mind.

Can you fix the broken? - ishani 

Could you still
love me even
though I am
a mess?

I promise
that the broken
can love you
the best?

I forgot you halfway through - ishani 


I used to write
poetry – left right
and center
in the notes of
my phone,
so I can carry
them all around
in my pocket, so
weightless too.

But I stopped
because you’re
worthless to
me too.

And so I forget
my rhymes as
I forget you too.

Sweet Dreams, TN - ishani 

I feel tired, 
I’m telling not showing, 
Shakespeare taught me nothing. 

I can talk about 
the hours i’ve laid awake 
staring at the ceiling, 
red eyes, puffy and 
dark rings under. 

The same 112 beat 
circling round in my head, 
a three hour journey down 
the M40; “Little Miss Sweet Dreams, 
Tennessee” just wishing that was me. 

The same 352 pages
beneath my fingertips tracing 
the ink stained words “Yes, why not” Why not? 
If not later when?

The same tune of 505 playing 
on repeat, the beat drops, 
it vibrates through my veins,
like the pulse under my skin, 
the feeling of a hematite crystal. 

“Do I dare disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time for decisions 
and revisions which a minute will reverse” 

I stare out the window, 
unblinking, and unmoving 
for hours on end, and I keep 
asking myself “what is wrong with me?” 

Many 2% drained out, 
shaking legs, spinning heads, 
and now I am thinking “am I 
depressed or just love deprived?” because 
I’m going back to 2018 where I 
live through the love in stories that people 
have written. Alex waited years for Orion, 
and they never did get their true happy ending. 

I imagine being in love, 
then I look at my life and realise, 
I know nothing of the sort 

I’ve listened to the same 808 
beat for years of my life and wonder, 
would it be worth it after all?

I am tired, 
I am telling not showing, 
even though T.S Eliot taught me everything, 
I’m too exhausted to remember. 

I’m sorry. 

Lilies - ishani 

He was like poetry
not in a way you would expect
it’s embarrassing really
how a one night thing can linger so long

But it was like someone
ripped the pages out of 
a poetry book 
built a better man out 
of the ink that I cried
and then built a gentleman

I guess maybe cause he 
looked beyond everything 
I’m insecure about about and 
still thought I was beautiful
and the way he asked before 
he kissed me because 
i was younger than he was; 
“I don’t want to do anything 
you’ll regret tomorrow” 

I didn’t regret anything
other than not going 
back quick enough for you 
to kiss me one last time 

Summer with a Pisces - ishani 

I once wrote a list of 
sixteen different things, 
oh Tommy why didn’t you
want me? Scared that 
you would leave me… 
but guess what, he 
already did.

It’s ironic now, 
that sliver of hope
left behind when 
you left me in the 
dust, that burden 
lingering around 
for months to come - 
and it did. 

Tommy who’s the 
piper now? While 
you’re messaging me 
pictures of girls when 
she’s not the one that you
want - and I’m many 
miles away, drinking 
prosecco  and smashing 
pinot gorigio wine bottles 
because the guy that 
I wanted was kissing me 
and no one else. 

I guess I should thank 
you for leaving me
well enough to not spend 
summer with a pisces, but 
learning to love myself 
just the smallest amount. 

So just come home - ishani

I watched an avalanche 
come crashing down, 
falling at the walls around me, 
and all I can do is stop and stare, 
because all these numbing emotions
falling around me, 
and I don’t know if I am angry 
or simply hating the creator.
Is it bad that I am angry 
at god, because these past
few months he hasn’t been 
there for me when I needed 
him the most?
Is it bad that I am 
losing faith in his entire existence 
because he has let me down 
countless times, leaving me
all empty and alone?
Where did you go!
I should know, but I’m lonely
and hurting, and losing my mind, 
so please come back and guide me, 
because I need you to be real, 
I need you to be here, 
I need you forever, 
because I don’t know who I am 
without you, a world without you
seems like an empty shot at all. 
Come back to me please, 
don’t leave me, 
come back to me in the place 
that you found me, all safe 
and soundly, 
just please come back home. 
It’s scary, the feeling of the walls
that are caving in and crashing down 
all around me, 
I am in an avalanche and I am screaming, 
but no one seems to hear me 
crying out for help, 
Don’t you get it? 
the early nights, the late mornings, 
the messy room and the urge to 
self deprecate, self sabotage, 
the comparison, the criticism, 
I need help god damn it, 
but not even he is here to guide me. 
He left me, 
and, and I can’t breath. 

Alexander’s Lover - ishani 

I’ve left you behind once before, 
millions of men before you came along, 
for the first time you were into me; 
how funny 

can’t remember where I left my pride, 
carried it for too long until you spoke to me; 
how funny 

“maybe I can be a better human with 
a new name” said she, well maybe I can 
be a better human in a new place 

I’ve buried my pride, 
and held it a funeral; 
how funny. I guess I’ll 
have to bury it again; 
only this time, I pied the piper. 

The devil will dance for us - ishani 

I know it’s not the same anymore,
but with this tremor in my hand,
because the whole world is watching,
but still with both eyes closed,
I’ll still dance for you,
but still with one eye open,
I’ll dance with you,
but still with both eyes open,
I’ll breath for you when
you need it the most,
and then we’ll run away
and leave behind the world,
if I could ask,
or even imply,
that a moment alone with you,
will be more than enough ,
so then I’ll write you a poem
or five, about this moment in time,
that you grabbed the sun for me,
because you wanted me to shine.

I hid these feelings for way too long - ishani 

Emotions come and go,
been told to avoid
‘em for way to long,
sick and tired of being
stuck between these
feelings for a long
while now, they’re either
confusing or
abusing,
and I’m stuck in the middle
of a screaming match between
you and my conscious,
and I know I’m wrong,
but she tells me I’m right,
so I think therefore I am.

&burn - ishani 

Would you let me light a fire
in your stomach, just like
the one you watched burn in me,
and then I’ll watch that fire burn
inside you, like you did me,
only this time, I won’t be cruel,
I’ll kiss your scars clean,
of all the times I’ve been mean,
said some hurtful things,
and watched you shake your head
at this scene that I’ve caused.
I’ll make you watch for a minute
longer than you made me.
If you let me, I’ll wash away
all the comments I made while
I was having a bad day.
Had these empty bad days
a thousand more times now,
only now they’re easier with you,
I think you saved my life,
and you made art out of the chaos
that I left you.

This is where you find me - ishani

You met me in my
chapter one, those pages
and words spilled down,
an ink stained madness,
and fifty chapters down,
nothing left but a
flickering candle,
dry air, no wind, no
breeze, and the pages
that you left for me,
and I think I’m still
stuck in the same
person I tried to
escape back in
chapter three.

This is very Gatsby of me. Isn’t it? - ishani 

I didn’t want it to end this way,
I wish that it would’ve just stayed the
same.
I watched as you betrayed me,
treat me like an outsider,
internally rip me apart,
before waving to the girl staring
back at me.
I hope you didn’t mean it that way,
to make me feel broken and detached,
like someone who had crumbled in the
hands of a man – it doesn’t make sense,
I thought a broken heart could only
be broken by the person you gave it too,
not by the person it belonged too.
I think I stole something from you,
and you’re punishing me twice.
for something I didn’t even do,
or maybe I did,
what happened to February me?
the one with the eyeliner,
and the hands all honey,
holding all that money,
or the one who loved her friends
instead of falling apart at the thought of them?

In between the ‘it matters to me who wasn’t there’ - ishani

we met in the dark, when I was
already too drunk enough to feel
the hangover washing over me in
the hours to come, I can’t remember
much of how we went from not even
looking at each other, but for his
arm to be wrapped over my shoulder
and lighting a pre rolled blunt for me.
that was the majority of the physical
contact we made that night,
but there was something about
being so touch starved when
his arm warmed me up,
awoken that part of me that
wanted to be in love so badly.
don’t get cross faded, it messes
with your brain for days on end.
a lot happened that night, a mixture
between sex, alcohol and drugs
and a bad reaction in the mix,
a bag of crisps and boxes of
chocolates shared under the
same blue blanket that I am
using right now,
I am a bit of a party animal,
and I think you are too,
certainly more than I am since
I see those posts of you with
your friends, and maybe I
prefer the green more than you,
and certainly a bottle of wine,
and I continue to enjoy it all
through even with your patronising
comments, although it is ironic
because when you made those comments
you were drunk too.
it doesn’t matter who was there that night,
nor does it matter about how dirty my socks
got, and the size of my bruise from climbing
over the dog gate. I don’t think it matters
about who wasn’t there (to anyone else but me),
I had a good time, between the times where
my head wasn’t in the toilet bowl, or
the room spun every time I shut my eyes,
the moments I spent dancing on the table
like those basic white girls in shitty romcom
movies, to when I had a joint in between my
two fingers, but I was already so drunk that
I didn’t realise I was high until I was already
a joint an a half down. These things could kill
me still, but I don’t care if I die because I’m
having fun, but it mattered to me who wasn’t there, and I didn’t realise until after that I was jealous of her, because she has your attention, and I kind of wanted you all for myself.

O Captain! My Captain! I buried it all for you - ishani

I’m having trouble understanding you
right now, my lapse of judgement must
be broken because I watching these words
fall from you lips, but I can’t hear a single sound.

You told me once before to hold onto my
feelings, or shove them down my throat
because no one likes a girl who is too
emotional. You said I burned like California,
and that I cried too much that it was a surprise
that my eyes didn’t bleed.

I listened to what you said with my head
held high, I put out that fire that once
burned brightly inside of me,
because to me, it was like stealing
the stars to give them to someone who
hated it all.

O Captain! My Captain!
I gave it my all, I gave it my best,
but I couldn’t even get a compliment
out of you.

Desiderium - ishani 

I know it’s time to let
go of these old feelings,
put them in an envelope,
sealed with a kiss,
then mailing them to you
door, with no message attatched,
because I’m just returning the
love that you couldn’t give me,
but I know it sounds insane
that I want to keep those
good memories, just until
there could be a slight
chance of you
loving me the slightest.