If You Ever

If You Ever by Tamoha Mukhopadhyay

If you ever remember me,
By the falling of raindrops on
Our forgotten words
Do not let me bleed in pain,
Make me bleed in poems.

If you ever see me,
By the bend of our path
Do not let a barrage of words
Impede our love ,
Let them caress me .

If you ever feel me,
In the edifice of all our unaccounted memories,
Do not let me feel untouched ,
Ink your fettered words in my heart.

If you ever ask me,
In an inundated road
Do not restrict yourself from the rain
Let it drench us in all our unspoken words.

If these ifs fail to arrive
Do look at the sky,
My heart will always beat there.

Extrication by Tamoha Mukhopadhyay

Don’t bother me now
I am busy drenching in all the unexplained metaphors.
humming the fatuous onomatopoeias.
For once my heart is not faint with a hundred stitches,
I am not abashed for my rumbustious self.

I run wild, barefoot in the shadowed woods
Magnolias aside
My lips are not blanched,
soul not shackled,
hair not rough with excruciation

I dance around, amidst the thorned roads
In the glinting moonlight,
mirthful memories,
The clear sky,
untethered from the strings of life,

Your Evanescence by Tamoha Mukhopadhyay

When you came,
The night had not seen the moon,
The sky had not seen the bees cavort.
The garland of my soul had not seen her flowers bloom.

Then, you left me
in the cacophony of life.
The flowers that you gave,
On a fooled autumn evening
Besieged me,
As I saw them get putrid.

you left me with a quavered heart,
You left me with a barrage of conjectural questions.
You left the world, except mine.

The moon glinted in her her glory,
The bees buzzed in exuberance.

But the garland of my soul was withered, forever.
When I was leaving,
I saw a part of your soul,
Lying by the riverside,
I consorted it,
On my way to the inevitable path of silence.

<img class="wp-block-coblocks-author__avatar-img" src="https://evepoetry.files.wordpress.com/2021/08/ecc0d-screenshot_20210604-100428.png&quot; alt="<strong>Tamoha Mukhopadhyay
Tamoha Mukhopadhyay

I am Tamoha Mukhopadhyay, a girl of 15 from Kolkata, India. 

I have always adhered to writing in my darkest of times. My poems are mostly melancholic, but buds of hope never fail to rise from the greyness. My poems celebrate pain, love, extrication.

I often feel tangled in the strings of life and the darkness seems to pirouette around me and writing is a form of untethering the strings and starting all over again.

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