Too much love to be true

Monday, May 30, 2016

Why judge me if my room’s messy
If my hair’s un-brushed 
If my clothes are baggier than it should be?
I come off clean for you
cleaner than your list of exes
cleaner than your dirty thoughts
cleaner than you.
The pushed limits of self-esteem did break away my screams
you didn’t even know.
You’d smack my butt when I’d come hug you in front of your friends in public.
You’d squeeze my breast while I’d rest my head on your shoulder.
I try to cuddle and come closer
to feel safer
to feel happier and warmer
to feel like a princess.
But a whore is what you make the feelings feel.
I stripped my soul to you
but you wished to strip my clothes.
I cupped your face with my hands while you were low
but your hands went down my pants.
I tried to yank all your problems
but you yanked on to my hair,
wouldn’t even hear me scream.
I wanted to make love to you
but you wanted to have sex.
A hug from you is all I need when I’m scared
who do I go to when I’m scared
I’m scared of you.
The longing of hiding my face on your chest,
breathing your scent,
the want of not letting go
the want of you not letting go of me,
have become just wants.
You stare down at my neckline while I did my eye make-up for you
you ask me to lap dance my laptop while I wanted to see you before bed
you never saw my tears flow of pain while you wanted your adventure of pleasure.
I only wished to say “I love you too”
but never have I.

-J. Yogi

Scribbles 2

Monday, May 30, 2016

 I was a book written in a language only I would understand,
but I wanted you to read me,
now I've broken my bones and scraped my skin,
to form into letters to be readable,
by you.
Read me and mark me as your favorite novel.

-J. Yogi

Dedicated

Monday, May 30, 2016

One for world and world for one,
where had I been placed?
where had you been placed? by me.
Thought you were my own,
if only I'd known
you'd believe the caws of crows
you'd believe the pictures shown
you'd believe everything
that your ill heart spoke.
Do I blame you? 
A heart is to love and I loved people
 A heart is to break and I was broken
A heart is to make you feel that you're THE superman and that you can fly and touch the skies and love who loves you back,
while you counted me as a resident in the brothels.
How do I even begin when you've stated the end.
World for one was what you deserved, I thought,
Do you blame me?
Time is precious they say, I gave it while I could
and when I couldn't
unnoticed did go the spider webs in my wallet,
unnoticed did go the effort of my two tiny feet that travelled because one couldn't afford to ride the tyres
 unnoticed did go the late night wakes for your goodness.
  I am hurt.
You hurt me.
Not because there were no words of praise from you
Not because you were embarrassed of my free spirited life
Not because you were foul mouthed
Not because you hated me for 'everything'
but because you were the one
   the stupid one
to start the caws.

- J. Yogi

Scribbles 1

Monday, May 30, 2016



Smiled with what left he had, still trying to not be rude,
Pain in his eyes
Fumbling for words
There as still as he stood.
Blinking away the pearls he tried, an effort to smile again,
His broken heart
The broken him
To heal and join was my main.
Denied and walked away, didn't let me mend his soul,
Little he knew
To fill his gaps
Were pieces of mine that I stole.

- J. Yogi

The Time

Monday, May 30, 2016



The time, the right one

I see lines of worries on your forehead
I see you hurting for your broken heart
I know how much love you had to give
while you didn’t get none.
Do you realize how your mother got you larger clothes,
cause she knew you’d grow in it.
You’d grow just the right way
to perfectly fit you
what she got you few years back.
Let the time play its moment,
cause maybe you are still to grow,
to let your heart fit perfectly
where you want to reside
who you want to love.
You’ll be grown up enough one day
and so will have your heart
and happily like the way you wore your gift,
somebody will wear your heart.


It’s just the time, the right one.

- J.Yogi

Liar

Monday, May 30, 2016



I’ve known you must be hurting
maybe missing me and my kisses
maybe missing our everyday hugs
maybe missing our plans for a home.
While I was giving up on cries
you were giving up on hope
you were giving up on faith
you were giving up on love.
Strangled were you with me
did I try to let you breathe better,
did I let your lips stretch wider to a beauty,
did I get on my toes to kiss your forehead.
But maybe I wasn’t the right.
Words and hours of explanations you seek
while I enjoyed silence,
splatters of shame and painted of phony was what the world chose for me
but shielded I am for I’m a princess.
I might look dirtier from where you stand
but come closer and meet my eyes
ever been so pure for you.
“Liar” you state, while you point me,
while lies were what you believed,
your assumptions carved your path,
my truth hurt your ears
and there I was,
lean,
sad,
given up.
I’ve known you must be hurting
but I’ve been hurting too.

-J.Yogi





Demon of Fate

Monday, May 30, 2016



Dear demon of fate, I promise you,
to let the kill
to let you adore my scars
to be the puppet,
to let you tie your thread around and bask on my screams.
Dear demon of fate, I promise you,
to come back to you,
but let go for now,
for now I need to let go of his heart,
that beats in me,
that put me back together,
that made me remember how smiling felt.
You’re dragging him in my personal quicksand,
he is to fly and live, he is to fly to love, to be loved.
See I’m no good of a heart-keeper,
for I couldn’t water it to grow
to bind me to him.
Who do I put the blame on to?
While his heart in me is breaking,
I’m failing to pull him from his pool of tears.
My pages from my book of life are filled of squiggly scribbles,
he deserves a clean sheet,
I don’t have one.
Even the words hung heads with shame,
and only I can utter are tears.
Dear demon of fate,
let me let go of him,
while he stares at me like a confused abandoned puppy,
for he shall move on, and live to love,
and not die with me while you cradle.

-J.Yogi




House of Dolls

Monday, May 30, 2016



“You are a doll” I heard
and with blushing cheeks I twirl in my frock
covered in frills and ribbons.
Nine I was, nine dolls I owned,
pretty ones with beautiful shoes and clothes
and a doll house of their own.

“You are a doll”, said mother
she’d brush my curly hair
she’d buy me pretty dresses with laces and elastics
she’d buy me shiny shoes with buckles.

The beautiful dusk settled
the house smelled of warm soup and bread
hosting an imaginary wedding was I lost in my house of dolls.

All so blurry but vivid,
I hear screams and wails
I hear her begging, pleading
I hear her silence.
“You are a doll”, said father
the foul smell of cheap red
his staggering walks dragging me out the house
swollen blue was her face
lying on the kitchen floor, unmoving
did she die?

Eighteen I am, nine years past
all made up and dressed in this house
this ‘house of dolls’ they name
how it smells of rotting grapes.
And everyday my mistress brushes my hair
and everyday the strange men shut the door behind
“You are a doll”, they say.

-Jyotsna Yogi