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[poemsnchai]

What Could Have Been: A Poem

I write too much about you,

more than I have written about anyone else by far.

How do I stop you from being my muse?

When you were the reason,

I decided to use my words again.

I wish you knew,

that the one in my stories is you.

For I cower behind my poems,

afraid of disrupting what we have now,

even if I crave for something more.

Sometimes I wonder if what I really wanted,

was what could have been.

Yet I swear there were sparks once, twice, I think I lost count.

Is this what falling for someone feels like?

After all, they say eighteen is a bit too young to be in love.

How is it that one can make me feel so good about myself one minute,

and makes me question myself the next?

How is it that I can feel safe to talk about anything with you one minute,

and exchange only silent glances the next?

How is it that I feel like I’m the only one you care about one minute,

and feel like I’m insignificant to you the next?

Or maybe, just maybe, this entire time,

I was hoping for what could have been.

Maybe my mother was right,

that I might still be too young to understand what love is.

But the one thing I know for sure,

is that I never regretted ever getting to know you,

for you taught me a lot about myself.

So, thank you for being that person to me,

even though all that’s left between us,

is what could have been.

— A.L.

[poemsnchai]

Alice in Wonderland: A Poem

Somedays I take notice of a lot of things,

like the squeaking noise the fan in my room makes as it spins round and round above my head,

or how the squawking crows in the morning wake me up ten minutes earlier than I’m supposed to.

And then I fall back asleep,

because I’m tired and I don’t have it in me to face the day ahead.

And when I go to sleep again I fall into a deep, never ending dark hole,

like the one that took Alice to Wonderland.

And like Alice, I know I have to get out of here but I don’t.

I enjoy free falling into the darkness as it consumes me,

I feel the rush of adrenaline and I plummet myself further and further,

but I can only go down so far.

So the shock wakes me up,

I look around to see where I am,

still safe and sound in my bed.

I sense chills throughout my body,

though I never leave the air conditioner on and the tropical weather would laugh at that remark.

I glance towards the alarm clock,

and I’m convince that I can spend five more minutes to wrap my sheets around me tighter to warm myself up.

I spend more than five minutes, actually,

because I let myself fall back into the same dark hole again.

— A.L.

[poemsnchai]

The Place I Call Heaven: A Poem

In a forest of concrete blocks,

I wished instead I had the wind in my hair.

Azure seas and clear skies,

What really does it feel like?

To have a place to call heaven.

A world of happiness,

I crave the need for more.

So I set out far and wide,

in the hope of finding

a place to call heaven.

I had nothing to find,

or so I thought.

Was I taking for granted,

everything that I had been granted?

For it simply is not what I thought was heaven.

I feel entranced by the restless spirit I created from within me,

and fail to escape from the shackles that hold me,

or is it that I chose to not break free?

For I believe that I hold the key,

To unlocking the doors of heaven.

Heaven is the spiciness of masala chai that tickles my nose.

Heaven is the feeling of being able to find footing after a long day.

Heaven is the heart and soul being poured out in exchanged laughter.

Heaven is the reassurance by ones held dear.

Heaven has always been here.

— A.L.