Conversations with myself

Whenever you meet him 

and put a story 

displaying that goofy smile, 

I find my heart 

constricting a bit everytime.

My mind asks,

'no, why do you feel downcast?' 

But my heart whispers the reasons behind, 

'his and mine tangled stars'

I try not to dwell 

on that pronoun, 

but forget 

that my lone pronoun 

has somehow 

traced the path 

to connect 

with his track,

without his permission, 

waiting to be debarred.

Arghh! 

Everytime.

I see you guys 

laughing 

and then 

I'm not angry at him 

for stealing 

my best friend as his 

but 

I'm angry at you 

that you didn't take me with you, 

the miles between us 

loses its meaning and 

my heart wants to 

fly towards you two.

You told me 

To be beware 

of the heartbreaking ride 

that I might be mounting 

when I began 

talking with him.

I was so sure 

about myself 

and my caged heart,

I ignored.

And now 

I peek through 

the stories windows of Instagram, 

those twinkling eyes 

and mischievous smile. 

And think about 

that point of time 

when I wore 

my heart on sleeves 

and lost to him, 

which to him remains

still undisclosed.

You, me. Me, you.

Who's he, who's me?

All lost amidst chaos.

- Raj Nandani