Skip to main content

Crazy Now



I often chuckle now,
When these boys call me crazy cow.
You said to me then, I am not assertive.
When I started speaking up, 
They say I am doing them a disservice.

I love it when they hit with a NO, is a NO.
If we reverse the roles, it would be a creepy Joe.

Did you forget the times, you manipulated me in the start?
When I did not want those smokey lips on my heart?

Or when I was busy with work?
And you only wanted one thing to twerk.

I did not want to touch you,
Or wanted you in my space.
But you were blinded by your itch.
Then threw me away in the ditch.

What about your melodramatic lie,
That you can't stand to see me cry.

Where was this concern and fake scheme,
As I lay in my bed yelling with screams.

Funny how they justify their abuse.
Saying my poems are a bit obtuse.

I am ok with being called crazy now.
I am no longer an instrument that you can plough.





~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse

Comments

Popular Posts

The Spotted Cucumber

  One fine day, tired of "always my way," I reached for comfort, or maybe just a craving. Picked up a spotted cucumber— Seemed harmless enough, so why not? But the moment I touched it, it pricked. Unwanted timber in my hands, Yet I let it be—what else could I do? Hunger led me to peel its layers, Only to find the filth it hid underneath. Worms writhing where freshness should be, Rot, disguised as something nourishing. I thought it was doing me a favor, But all it did was make me sick. Never knew comfort could leave such a taste— Bitter enough to spill my guts out. Next time, I’d rather reach for something rich, Something warm, indulgent, and worth my time. A smooth, chocolaty éclair— Rather than ever go for such a comfortable, unhealthy affair.

Us Two

  As the hands struck two… Can you feel my hands on you? The power of the universe with just us two I am so into you. Who’s counting the minutes? Only we know what we brew. Even if the world fades to dark, We shine brighter in our spark. Your lips brush my nape, Undoing the shyness of my drapes. As your fingertips trace me, I melt like that slice of brie.

Temptress

  I wanna be your temptress, Get you down on my mattress. You be the king, I'll be your empress. I already have a clear purpose, You can trace every curve and surface. I've got one mission for you— Are you built for the secret service? Let me take a bite of that apple, Can you make me pray without taking me to the chapel? They call me a wolf, but I will bear your saddle, Make me howl like the moon's lone disciple. Either play this like a boring game of Scrabble, Or get your armor on and be ready for a passionate battle.