top of page

2

Poetry

Pipe Dreams

Surbhi

I hate to admit, for what I see.
I'll pretend it ain't real, so let it be.
Screaming the words out loud,
But its ashes is all that comes to me,
And a whispered plea.
Cracks appear, illusions starts to fray.
I cling to mirage, refusing to sway.
They say,
"What's not yours is taken away."
Grasping at echoes of what could be.
Pipe dreams, refusing to see.

But when the smoke cleared,
All my fantasies seared.
Staring into the mirror, afraid to come home.
Now I'm standing at your backdoor all alone.
No more shadows to deceive,
Only the bare truths, hard to believe.
Now as I can see,
Everyone looks better than me.

You got the best deals,
I'm still bargaining.
Up on the stage you are,
I'm down here dreaming.
The ocean blues melting at your feet,
I'm here longing for the rain.
Your crystals shimmer in bright sun,
While my pebbles just have stories spun.
For beauty lies in what we seek,
Maybe just in what others keep.

Doubts echo, but I'll deny.
The harsh reality, I'll defy.
You chase the moon, I'll grasp the stars.
One wrong step, and falling back into the haze,
Pipe dreams, I'll still chase.

But all this chasing is making me go mad. Indifference surrounds me,
It's making me sad.
You don't care about me ?
Thanks, I'm glad.
But you know what's easier to assert?
It's to be angry than to tell you're hurt.

My heart, once sequined pink,
In the deep dark ocean it sinks.
What if it's waiting for someone?
Someone to love me for who I am.
Now I just sit at the cold bottom,
Like an old skeleton with no blood left. Pipe Dreams, an impossible theft.

This cold is cutting deep into my bone.
Please, I think it's enough.
Now, take me back home.
Where the sun shined,
Where all my poems rhymed.
You promised reality beyond the haze's veil,
But here I bleed, lost, beyond the pale.

So I'll just run,
Run far away,
Back into the haze,
Cuz it was always a safe place.
Mock me if you must, from your glittery shore,
It's easier when you haven't endured.
Running back into a burning house,
Just to save the things I love.
Is that self-love or self-destruction?
I don't know.
The one who decides is not me.
Pipe dreams, refusing to see.

bottom of page