Modern Love Poems: Your Words are a Pearl Necklace Falling to the Floor

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[Note from Frolic: We are so excited to continue our new series of modern love poetry from the top poets on Instagram. Next up is part 8 of a collection from @shruteechoudhary. Read part one here.]

1 I  am fluent in two languages, yet no combination of words could weave a sentence persuasive enough to change your stubborn mind. “there are things you can control and then things that you can’t.” my therapist always tells me. 

I don’t have much control over my own feelings, forget trying to revive yours.

when the morning light falls on your bedroom wall, you don’t see my shadow. 

I’m no more real to you than the fears that have you in their grasp. I’m contained time in an hourglass, you’re fleeting by.

“I love you, though” you tell me, the words are barely a foetus, and you already have one foot out of the door. 

you can’t possibly keep hurting me, simply because I’ve a greater ability to endure.

I’m not your smoke break, your lullaby before bed, your dreamy wake. 

I’m an impaired machine you are too lazy to repair. I’m fading, fluid, forgettable and I know all these words, so many words. I’m fluent in two languages, and you don’t even pick up the phone anymore. the words are rotting in the refrigerator. maybe they will soon be forgotten, I’ll soon be forgotten, like the trash you forgot to take out the night we met.

 

chapter 1

your words are a pearl necklace falling to the floor, collapsing 

alarming, messy 

astounding too 

and I collect all the pearls, slouched on the floor like a 5 year old that has stumbled upon a collection of marbles. 

your voice, what you have to say, who you are — they all make me happy.

chapter 2

your hands touch me with meaning, the lines of my body and things you do, they are both in a state of betweenness, some grasp over blissful unawareness, some over unspoken knowledge. we are here, at the peak, a minute before Spring hits, it’s as good as it gets.

chapter 3

the walk back from the hike is always more tiring. It’s over, the tenderness, bewilderment, the adrenaline rush. a memory of it is all we have. but we were there only moments ago! we had it. 

now you slip into fatigue and I wear a nightgown sown out of our beginning. I walk around the house flaunting it, beaming in it while you slouch over at your desk, already taken by routine; diluting my kisses in whiskey and smokes. do you even taste it anymore?

chapter 4

the doom. I’m trying to take you back. I’m trying to make you remember. your hands don’t reach for me anymore. where did I lose you just? but I like my nightgown. don’t make me let go yet.

chapter 5

I sat by the window seat on the airplane

and it rained and I saw the droplets go 

upwards on the window pane

the sky had veins

now, it wasn’t the first time I’ve ever flown 

on a rainy day

but every single time, I have had my breath 

taken away

by the sight I behold

and it has given me hope

the sun always sets

I know what to expect

hues of blue and yellow and lavender and red

a snapshot I’ll take to bed

the airplane will be 30,000 ft above sea level

then slowly descend 

and I’ll be down to the ground

amidst familiar sounds

but when I wake up everyday

I don’t know if you are to leave or to stay

the maddening gamble of love

shreds me to pieces

I’m less of land, more of crevices

why do people always find reasons

to wreck what could be wonderful? 

why do you?

don’t you see how it hurts me, don’t you see how it hurts you?

About the Author:

When I’m not busy being a goofball, I like to complicate my life for a living, so I can try and uncomplicate it with words. 

I like to travel and make pictures. I’m also an actor, so I’m really all about the stories. 

In poetic terms, 

I’m the wormhole between reality and fiction

I’m the rhyme and the contradiction. 

 
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