Unrequited - A Micro-Chapbook

A guest submission written by Revika Sangamita and edited by Stephanie O., our editor-in-chief!

TW: Mentions of mental illness, suicidal thoughts and death

To Dante,

Thank you for your love in whatever form it was

Our Broken Ends

When your words solicited my heart,

I left the parts on my way.

Aversion for aaram has been up

since that day.

You know the lights,

And I know the darks,

Still we can't be complete

because none of "us" is ours.

Why the pictures look away from my eyes,

Why the rivers of our tears together is upside,

Why this poet dies each second

But still without you is alive?

Aaram* - comfort

I Lived A Little

When the moons lit around my galaxy

When you made it all so serene

That meteoroids stopped

wrestling with the earth

I breathed up high

floating in the dark

Tasting the love

for the very first time

And I knew then that

Your face is the only frame

I would hang on the wall of my heart.

Did you know, dear?

I lived a little with you.

If It were Only Us

If I would write all that I have for you

we'd be left behind on this planet,

And the intergalactic spaces wouldn’t

hesitate to dismiss my sappy words.

Though we would've traveled there

just if our hands were gripped together

for a little longer, a little for the beyond.

If I would write all that I wanted to say,

Scared to pass the scars I never ought to give. Your blood rush seems to hate me even when you don't —

When you entered my panic room,

I banished the dark behind curtains

So nothing could reach you, I'd keep you safe. Simply letting you go like a stream

made the ocean lighter, but old knickpoints

just hurt the same, dear.

This Side of Love Turmoil

You still appear the first name on my friend list

It's because of your username and I'm not saying

I would've removed it when you left the other side

Of that trembling thread we were holding, firmly

I still have it in my hand, I still have my side that

Burns from liquorice which poured from within

Breaking further the cracks of wall that stood still,

once.

I saw your profile every other day, It's been long

With our words being exchanged and I've written

Thousands in your name, willing to write million more

But when I read yours in a sudden arch,

It opens the weaving pain painting the pictures of unknown

vividly drawing out red from my blood, ash black from heart

My eyes drop by seeing the familiar style of your words,

dear.

And not to be mistaken, or be in an illusion once again

Your long texts this time weren't for me, I wonder if

you miss this part we shared like I do, not the feelings

not the turmoil entering our door, just you and me

Like that sweet song you shared long ago, do you still mean it?

I've become a vegetable already, you know and I'm yet

To start antidepressants, the pills to make that heart live

that once fluttered deliberately.

Desserts and Ache

I scribble away my heart

Like a shattered tale of Tiramisu

Yes, the taste of this heavenly baked dessert

Lies at the outskirts of this foolish truth.

I lag behind a little and I am jeopardized

By the succession lingering on the devil's tooth.

What else would be my name?

Where else the serenity would be if not in pain?

Like a thumbnail pressed on the wooden ache

I slowly slip out the emotions of longitude love

And a sickening heart safely beneath the stains.

Somewhere

Crippling cold underneath my flesh,

And death popping out today like a cat

Whimpering the loudest music of the last,

In the cutted leathers of cruel misery knees bleed through the jeans of dreams

That have faded over the fire of stars

I speak my way in the impeccable sky

I speak my words woven in the night I lied all my life, today lie on this ground Laying in the shadow of tears, somewhere

Under the stones of rocky hills, close to you

But far away from me, I decide in a beat

That I won't die like this, letting the numbness

Accompany this dreadful soul in threads

Oh I mumble back, I am with me only.

Your Hands were a Shrine Once

Your hands were a shrine once

That I used to preach

They smelled like bushes

Ecstatic air and dream beach I carried them closely

They consoled, they behold

But now it seems like they only hurt I have stopped myself

From touching those fingers I have refrained my heart

from longing for them.

And I know you'd say

I have never touched you.

But believe me dear in this distance you've always touched me.

It's a farewell today

Between your warmth and this soul I am reminded of the days

I trimmed my nails short

So even in my mind

I never bestow a scratch upon you.

"How long will I go without you?",

Something I used to ask a lot. But from your hands today, I've learnt

one thing dear

To always hold mine.

When Acceptance Takes Place

I turned a blessing into a curse,

to my pursed lips of the soul

It aches ashes to breathe the blues,

So when I avoided your hand I lost mine too.

We were broken when we had everything dear, I don't want to answer what we are now, Tears are poetic enough to drift us apart.

Flowers pressed between your favorite book I carried

them for you once,

But it was long gone when I discovered

There are things that can be recovered I lost the rejoice of our small reunion that day

Earth mingled between our feet

And the fleeting highs of drought grounds

Flickered from our stains.

Let's live our pain dear

Not to measure who is more broken

But to be the ones that heal.

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Acknowledgments

Thanking The Graveyard Zine for featuring 'Our Broken Ends' in their Issue 03: The Muses of Tragedy and Outlander Zine for featuring 'Desserts and Ache' on their website.

About the Poet

Revika Sangamita (she/they) is weaving her portrait of being a queer poet, storyteller and artist while residing amidst New Delhi, India. As a kid, after discovering that 'Fiction' is a (very) different concept from 'Fractions' from their beloved elder sister, she was way overjoyed and felt like celebrating. From writing diaries, they started embracing their mental health issues, social perspectives, healing, hope, grief and all kinds of love through poetry. While bustling in the metro for her survival, she likes to scroll webtoon and listen to drama & anime original soundtracks.

She has worked as a staff poet at Outlander Zine. Their work has been featured in Live Wire India, Bloom Magazine, Graveyard Zine, Evoke & Echo Literary Magazine, Querencia Press, The Global Youth Review and several anthologies. Unrequited is her first micro chapbook. Their debut poetry collection 'Grief and Other Flowers' is soon coming to life. One can find her on Instagram @revikasangamita or via email at itsrevika@gmail.com.

This piece was edited by our editor-in-chief, Stephanie O.

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