Poetry

La Douleur Exquise

I live for the moments you smile; when the blue in your eye’s dances with joy,

I live for when your laughter builds in your chest and you let it tumble out,

I live for when you sing in your off-hand voice, and when you get the lyrics completely wrong,

I live for when you smile at the same scene of the same movie, humming that favourite song of yours throughout.

 

I wish I had your bravery to say the words, and your beauty to hide behind,

I wish I had your resilience when inevitably my dreams will fall apart like a thousand pieces of a broken vase, will shatter,

I wish I had the determination that crosses every line of your face when you are challenged,

I wish I had your fearlessness; the gentleness of your words in each situation, every matter.

 

No feelings worse in this world then that of those unreturned,

Nothing more hurting than the slip in the corners of mouths after a smile unrequited,

The crumbles of vanity, the flecks of pride fall down to one’s feet as if they never existed,

The more I seem to admire you, my love, the more I know it is unreciprocated.

 

I wonder what will happen after I give you the jar of tears, I have shed over you,

Will you hold them dear, and label them your triumph as the incentive of my hurt, my pain,

Will you wipe away those tracks on my cheeks and whisper words of reassurance and hold me in an embrace,

Or will you not even spare a second glance, scatter them away like the meaningless aftermath of rain?

 

In another life, I will reach for your hand and perhaps you will let me have it,

You will bestow me with smiles, caress my cheeks and let me bask in the glory of your attention,

Until then, I think, I will be the one standing outside your beautiful house, peeking in from a broken window,

Letting myself deeper and deeper, soaking up the painful pleasure of your hand in my declension.

 

I laugh bitterly, shaking my head with a smile containing no joy,

Gladly taking the bruises you inflict on my mortality, wearing the wounds on my soul like medals of a war,

When did I become so masochist, I wonder; begging for scraps as the ground scratches my knees,

Waiting for your mighty waves to wash away the remains of my empty shore.

 

I carry you with myself, nestled in the corner of my heart; where nobody but me can see you,

You have been my blessing and my curse, my angel and my devil, my low and my high,

Yet, if there has been a constant, absolute truth in my life, a belief till my casket is lowered towards the ground,

Always know this, my love, I will love you till the stars live in the sky.

 

                                                                                                   ~Anantinee Mishra

                                                                                                 New Delhi, India

6 Comments

  1. Mercy Beaucoup for this wonderful write up

  2. What a matured expression from this small mind!Her rytham is immaculate and note is methodical.One would love to smell the fragrance of words chosen.As always, a big congratulations for the spontaneity and presentation. God Bless.

  3. Really worthy poem made by you. The words and the expression of life is put up so nicely.

  4. Bimala Sen

    Congratulations! Wonderful expression and presentation..waiting to read more..love and blessings.

  5. Sukanta Roy

    Very meaningful…
    The expression is touch the soul….
    God bless you Anantinee……

  6. Acharya Biswajit Dikhit

    Good Luck – Anantinee

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