My Tears Have Dried...

My tears have dried, no more weeping
For the ones who turned their backs,
The ones I nurtured in their darkness,
While they hid their cowardice,
Pretending to be a light,
Yet casting shadows on my soul.

I listened when they had no one to call,
Gave my heart to those who risked my health,
All the fake well-wishers,
Friends in name only,
So-called lovers with their shameful confessions,
Thinking I would be their soft landing,
Never judging, never condemning.

But now, I fiercely guard my peace,
My energy, my soul—
To all of you, I say,
Fuck off!
I’m not that caring woman anymore,
Not your emotional sponge,
Not your therapist in disguise.

Dare to call me anything but my name?
I’ll sever the ties that bind,
Chop off the words that make you feel like a man.
When you couldn’t take no for an answer,
Didn’t see my discomfort,
An awful man claiming to be THE MAN,
Who says he has a sister,
Yet doesn’t care for another's daughter.

Respect is not a gift, it’s a right,
If you can’t honour women in general,
Forget about respect for your own mother.
My tears have dried,
And with them, the weight of your shame.
I rise, stronger, unyielding,
No longer bound by your false light.

~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse

Comments

Game Of Fire and Ice

Hey Mister, Why won't you play a game of Twister? I promise I won't play coy. Won't you love it if I were your only toy? You can be the Lion in the boardroom, Then make me roar in the bedroom. Let's play the game of fire and ice. You bring the sugar, and I get the spice. I am praying by myself these nights, Drowning my moans when the city sleeps tight. We can play the game of Super Sonic, And then have our own race over some gin and tonic. So find me, like an app can find a phone. No, I won't bring out my Medusa and turn you into stone. I have been getting over my fears, Learned to make my tears into spears. You can take me as you like. We can go until we hear the third strike.

Polished Sins

A suit and tie, that polished smile, Covering up sins stacked mile by mile. They flaunt “new love,” someone else’s child— A ready-made story, perfectly styled. They’ve “levelled up,” or so they preach, But on someone’s pain, they made their reach, With vows of loyalty, words so neat, While another’s screams lie beneath their feet. Oh, they “moved on” to brighter skies, Leaving someone broken, with silent cries. They mount new heights, they shout and boast— Scaling peaks on another's haunted ghost. So smile for the camera, flash your pride, Show off the life that you tried to hide. For we know the truth beneath your gleam— A hollow show, a self-made scheme.

Till You Sing

Some would say men went to war for women like you, But I would still choose war if it meant choosing you. You say you write in amorous lines, But I would let you be the woman of my tribe. You had your adventures Under The Buda Moon, But have you been loved past noon? So I can see you shine like a magical flower, In the quiet warmth of the golden hour. The invisible strings pull at my heart Can I do justice to your name? Caress you right, Till you sing like a Carnatic hymn. Inspired by the author of Under The Buda Moon, Veena Rao

Cruising Alone

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