mere sapne bikharke

I came here because I had nowhere to go

tw mention of food and just generally a bad air to these words i think

I am so close to giving up I am so close to giving up I am so close to giving up I am so close to giving up I am

in a train typing

furiously listening

to a song

someone

sent me last night

I am so close to giving up

if these windows could be opened

I’d throw myself in this sea river water body

and call it a night but

I can’t

I wish I could

call him at night

and tell him I love him

but I cannot because

I am so close to

giving up and when you are so close

to giving up

the first evidence

from a distance that gives it away

is the crack in your voice

which is five feet deep

and ten meters wide

and now your throat is a crater and your words are ashen

and now you are also close to giving up aren’t you

and if you are

can you please give up

for me I am so exhausted

that I can’t even give up properly

and I am now thinking of how to

punctuate this but I cannot seem to

think properly

and food is again an enemy

and I think I should give up

but that’s the thing I give up every night

and then I wake up defeated

and sullen

and then I give up in a new way every day

with no winning

because nobody is going to win ever

and I will

keep on losing

or maybe I mean loving

maybe I will lose in love all the time

and I wish someone would let me be

a little mean to them

mean as in let me care for them

but not love them

because my love lives miles away

and now I cannot seem to care

about things at all

I want to write the saddest song

in the world but I cannot

and everyone is inching away from me

I wish people would not leave

in stupid ways

I have no problem with leaving but

at least be a poet about it

no matter how bad

but who am I

to say anything

I am both a poet and bad and a bad poet

all of it at once and maybe

that is why I am this way

or vice versa right

but who can really tell I am pretty

sure you cannot, stranger on the internet

who knows me this way

or that way

last night I dreamt someone was in my room

but did you know

I have not had a room of my own

in twenty years.

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Back to earth, hello. August was bad. It’s September and I am having a hard time. I say that every time don’t I? I have so many things to write about for this newsletter but my words are currently angry at me so they’re not coming out of their room, not even for dinner! See you in September October November and December. See you at her wedding and his baby’s third birthday. See you tomorrow and then never. See you in two weeks and hope you like me so much that you crash into me. (the last couple lines are from a poem please don’t steal them okay)

Love,

Heera