Bidisha P. Kashyap

hours (ft. you) - a slowdeath

Dawn — whimpering fragile silhouettes/satin laces wrapped around wine stained sheets/ the streetlights flicker slowly/ "what is it like to love someone till every single breath is just an reminder how you have to get through another day alone" — I stare at the sticky note beside my bedstand/ deafening silence creeps up my spine/ yet I find a home somewhere in between/ somewhere far amidst the first ray of sun a lone bird sighs/ I tell myself that I don't need you/ my words comes out in series of stutters/ please come home.

Noon — old typewriter keys clash against tired fingers/ I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear as the clock tower strucks one/ the sky looks like a pastel patchwork of metaphors today/ I hope the winds on your side of the town are gentle on your freckles/ inside my third drawer, somewhere carefully tucked inside some envelopes/ and I try so hard to not reach out for your smile/ I have survived two octobers alone since you left and I am not sure if I can take the third one.

Dusk — I run my fingertips around the edge if the ceramic cup and watch my date flash me a smile/ his long brown locks are similar to yours but yet home feels so far/ long slender fingers run over my knuckles; he looks outside the window/ a tint of shyness kisses his cheeks/ I smile and shift my gaze to the sky/ have you found a different heartbeat to call your safe place now love? (I hope you still think about me)

Midnight — thunder whirls past the city as I spend another sleepless night with empty arms/ the wooden box where we kept our promise rings, now serves as my ashtray/ you left me like an unfinished poem after feeding me with a very promising ending/ I smile to myself and then laugh and then choke on my own sobs/ how am I now supposed to finish the poem in me if your thoughts keep on breaking me over and over in every passing hour?


19 y/o aspiring writer, Bidisha P. Kashyap hails from Assam, India. As a part time poet and full time lover of art, her works has been published in various anthologies, alongwith poetry soup's first ever issue, local dailies, virtual literary community pages and youth magazines. Other than trying her best to come up with something new and pleasing everytime, out of all the unsaid rants in her journal and her notes app, she admits that she has a slight obsession with tea, art supplies, books and winters.
Instagram - @bidishaa