original poerty

उधार की खुशियाँ...

तेरी दी उधार की खुशियों..का क़र्ज़ आज भी उतार रही हूँ मैं..

हर मिली खुशी के बदले.. दुआ भेज रही हूँ मैं..

हिसाब बराबर हो..की क़िस्सों की किताब के पन्ने जला रही हूँ मैं!

                                                                                  - Richa Srivastava

                                                                                        Scattered Thoughts #6                                                                        

Stardust Trails

I have always thought you and I were too perfect.
Messy, but our love was incredible.
Therefore, I’ll blame the universe, and conjure up tales about the chaos it created,
and how we had no fault in our destruction.
The gods laughed as they pulled and tugged on the stars with (red) strings,
playing puppets with our fate,
leaving nothing behind but tattered hearts and stardust trails.


You like knowing that you are her inspiration for her poems.
Where feelings are leaked, expressing my words on the sheet.
To how you touch.
To how you sound. To the way that you breathe
To what you say. To what you mean to me.
Does it make you feel special that I think of you in that kind of way?
—  11:36 Am/ 5-23-17

The sentiment of an ex-best friend is truly a tragedy
Like little dandelions flying away to unknown places
And worse yet, they leave behind memories of the sweetest kind
Old friendship bracelets and Birthday cards,
Now the size of our conversations have shrunk and the distance between our hearts grows wider,
Friend is replaced with acquaintance,
And I am staring at my past in your eyes
A time of butterfly hunting in your garden,
When you would clean the dirt out my finger nails,
And I would smile all teeth

Now the hallways are our meeting point,
Eye contact is rare
A “Hi” is the longest word I’ve heard from you in while
We used to swim in the old lake in summers
But now there’s an ocean between us
I make no effort in swimming across

As innocence tears away from naivety,
I question if the heart needs to grow harder as I grow older
Mother tells me “losing touch” is common,
But I was always too many strings attached

—  The Art of Losing Touch

वक़त वक़्त की बात है..

कभी एक तस्वीर ही काफी थी दिल छू लेने को।..

अब तो शब्द भी बेमाने से हो गए हैं।

                                               - Richa Srivastava

                                                                        Scattered Thoughts #7                                           

Remember who it was that calmed your raging seas before they devoured every ship that tried to sail them.
Remember who it was that listened to every solitary thing you’ve said and offered
when your storms clouded your eyes and you became lost.
Remember who it was that introduced you to a different and new way of thinking
people are not all bad and 
people are not out to get you and 
you are not your illness and
you are not the demon you paint yourself to be
Remember who I am and don’t you fucking forget about me.
—  If the shoe fits. (e.m.)

I didn’t know how to stop myself
I don’t know how to undo myself
I wish I could see what the right choice is
They say I’m to young to know
What the mistakes I’ve made mean
And the ones that I’ll make will do
They say I’m to old to be this foolish
And I’m so lost
And I’ve always tried to do right
I used my words on a paper to understand
To help me see straight
But the more I write the harder it is to listen
And I can feel myself sinking
And I don’t know if I want to float


The sky was painted with
the colors if lost thoughts
And the clouds let out the
tears of unspoken words

As they rolled off my shoulders
and onto the water around me

I could hear the blissful moment
when the crying sky turned to rain
And it’s tears tip toed onto my skin

Leaving behind the sound
Of the sweetest kiss


roads and dead ends

everything is a road
seemingly infinite

subject to a web of cause and effect
that determines the detours

do you believe in coincidences?

everything is a road
a passageway one chooses directly or indirectly

a vague promise
of an innate desire

everything is an infinite road
with impending anticipation, eagerness or fear

of dead ends
that don’t really exist

What if everything is false?

What if we’re all just a part of some

fucked up dream?

Would you still love me if I never

wanted to see the sun anymore?

Because baby I’m telling you

these nights started killing me

long ago

And now the light from the sun

well, it’s getting harder to see also

I didn’t mean to drag you into this

I’m sorry

but I still can’t help but wonder 

what if it’s not even worth apologizing



what if everything is false?