Poetry: To My Dearest Self by Shivansh Trivedi

To my dearest self…now woken up to Reality

Ever took the time to feel that brief warmth of a tear forming?

It wells up enough to flow down the skin of your face,
Fading unapologetically into the cold storms of time,
Ever so unapologetically rendering the heat of the moment less than meaningful,
All without a trace.

I can merely watch as it all unfolds before me,
Staring into the blackened depths of my bleeding heart,
Every expression from my face ripped away,
It’ll be futile if now…she tries me.

She pretends,
dodges and ignores thinking he’d be none the wiser,
He knows it but he indulges her.

I swear,
Never again…never will I love so carelessly again.

Terrible first time for me,
You never cease to disappoint,
Unlike you,
I remember everything.

The reality is mine alone,
When all is said and done,
The Value of some treasures are not meant for all to recognize.

It was cruel to throw us in with the crowd,
To abuse, abandon and discard what we shared.

Our experiences
parallel and disconnected,
Only I am conscious of that feeling.

You’re the hypocrite,
Now an echo and hollow reflection

that my backwards reading self craved in one word…Erised.

Whoever you are now
means less to me than before,
I return the truth of things to you in kind,
Just as disposable and long disposed

Constantly moving forward,
With myself as first and last.

By Shivansh Trivedi, Uganda

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