P O E T R Y
Sharika Sabha
She confessed.
She confessed to a crime.
Which she would never regret
Doing over and over again.
She confessed.
She confessed to following him.
His every stance, gesture, word
When she tries to be around him.
Just like an experienced assassin
Who incessantly follows
Every step of his prey
Before executing him.
She confessed.
She confessed to acting like a friend.
A friend, who is indifferent
To his problems.
But she never noticed that
Her deepest concerns were hidden
Under every “Pera nai, chill”,
Under every nonchalant shrug.
She confessed.
She confessed to lying blatantly
To herself.
Lying how she likes
His humourless jokes, tactless puns
Or the weird memes
Or the wholesome photos he shared
(Which never released
Any drop of serotonin)
Just because they are friends.
She confessed.
She confessed to deceiving herself.
How seeing him beaming
Generated warmth inside her body.
How hearing his voice
Made her day.
How seeing him defending women’s rights
Made her proud.
She thought it was just because
They are good friends.
She confessed.
She confessed to a crime
To herself, knowing that
He will never believe or accept it.
He will feel betrayed, wounded,
Disrespected because of her words.
Her actions will instigate hatred.
She confessed.
She confessed
Her love for him to herself.
The proof of which is buried
Deep inside her heart.
And that’s the last place
He would think of searching.
She confessed.
She confessed to a crime
Which she would love to do
Over and over again.
Even if it leaves bruises and scars.
Even if it makes her heart bleed.
Even if it stains her shirt from teardrops.
She will do it again.
She will fall in love.
But she won’t let him know.
Sharika Sabha is tired of convincing people that Economics doesn’t teach you how to make money. She loves human babies, books, and submitting assignments a few minutes before the deadline. She can be reached at [email protected]