Rhea Gupte

Visual Artist & Photographer

Memories Take Root

Beneath wrinkled piles of paper
And faded bundles of bills
I discover a part of you.

Carefully tucked away
For exactly one such day
Withered, old pages
So dear to me today.

The many thoughts of you
Concealed all around my home
I have nurtured them to grow
Into saplings of their own.

Candy

Care for some candy?
Coated in routine tragedy?
Mimicking sweet,
sultry, tasty.
A damaged, despondent,
grim reality.

Strangling beating hearts,
Mapping shallow breaths,
Joyless fruition,
In subtle deaths.

Of hardboiled wonders,
Syrups and treats,
As we open doors,
Popsicles melt on floors.

Poem

I wrote a poem.
I wrote till my hands bled and my mind wept.
I wrote between murmurs and silence.
I wrote till my heart could be traced between words
Methodically penned.
I poured within context and rambled without
Vomited pages, not a moment of doubt.
I shed not a tear, inflicted not a tear
I hid from the world
This strange despair.
Two sheets became ten
I wrote a poem.