Ritika Nath

Ritika Nath Poems

Hanako Ishii was you aware of that story
Where the cunning moon drained his childish sun so much,
She died every night just to let him breathe?
Why lie to that entity who could sense mere sickness miles apart?
...

Have you ever been in the middle of something?
Middle of life, middle of multiple books,
middle of a cup of warm, sweet coffee that you just don't want to finish?
'You are so much more than that! ' my inner voice cried while I listlessly swept off flyway hairs and tucked them behind my ears.
...

Where do we go when the black blank blanket covers us?
Under which sky? Whose moonlight? Glistening stars...
'Listen—'
'What? '
...

The Best Poem Of Ritika Nath

Universal Lies

Hanako Ishii was you aware of that story
Where the cunning moon drained his childish sun so much,
She died every night just to let him breathe?
Why lie to that entity who could sense mere sickness miles apart?
Why lie to that flame who was smiling, dying, still smiling just to brighten the day?
Why lie to that light who knew each and every darkness, dent, insecurity and still loved them all?
"- -ed"
Past tense.
Seashell eyelids, tinsel city, fake smiles, head on the stars...
Dear moon, old moon, cunning moon, how's your day going?
How is she?
Cohen cries here.
Judgments, disorders, complete psychos,
Nights went on riding on poems, songs, glittering gibberish...
Moon, a satellite of earth.
Anxiety, panic attacks, hypertension...
Who knew hell can be a human being?
There's no point of burning inside your own flames,
How can a ball of fire burn herself into ashes?
Moonlight sleeps on, smiling, grinning at her idiocy.
Nevertheless, she tried, died each and every night, week, month...just to let him breathe.
Sartre! Write your Nausea here!
Nietzsche! Is this the place where the tragedy took birth?
Kafka! Metamorphose me into a mere insect, an ant, amoeba...anything but this! The flames! The ever-burning flames!
I quit! I quit! I quit!
"You give me miles and miles of mountains,
and I'll ask for the sea."
I would have asked for honesty,
I would have asked for peace,
I would have asked for the pen on paper drawings,
I would have asked for old books, crisp fragrant pages, rainy days and a familiar shoulder to cry on.
The young sun was too greedy, too much, it was way too much for the old moon...

Do you know, that's why one black hole can devour an entire galaxy?


(excerpt from the memorial I'll never finish)

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