Sometimes
The very sound of breathing to me
Is cacophony.
My heart races
My blood becomes cold
And I start to crumble
Crumble like a biscuit.
Fat tears roll down
My cheeks
I shut myself
From the world.
This missing you
This craving you
It is not a good feeling,
Krishna.
In fact
It is the worst
This feeling of dying
This feeling of losing myself.
But I've not spent these eternities
Without learning a few tricks
Of my own.
I lose myself completely
In you, Krishna.
And unlike before,
I could do this
Forever.
YOU ARE READING
Radha's Krishna
PoetryRadhaRamana, The Beloved of Radha he is. He is everything, in everyone. He is sung, he is loved, he lives. But Radha? ______ Narrated in the voice of one of Hindu mythology's most powerful characters, Radha's Krishna is a collection of poems, an o...
