I don’t want to be your secret

shhh1I don’t want to be a secret phone call that ends as the sun rises. I want to be your early morning alarm that is allowed to be loud in your bedroom. I want to be your person.

I don’t want to be your secret. I don’t want to be your ink pen that is locked away, kept only for the days you want to get your hands dirty. I want to be that little blue pen you use on a bright afternoon to write your grocery list. I want to be your boring errands.

I don’t want to be your secret. I don’t want to be the letters you keep in locked drawers. I want to be those unread flyers that lie under the cracks of your apartment door days together for the world to see. I want to be seen.

I don’t want to be your secret. I don’t want to be the tattoo that is hidden away in your weakest spot. I want to be the watch that clasps your wrist like it belongs. I want to belong.

I don’t want to be your secret. I don’t want to be the song that plays in your iPod after the lights are switched off. I want to be the song that plays loudly on your cars stereo. I want to be heard.

I don’t want to be your secret. I don’t want to smell like the fresh breath mints you choose to camouflage the smell of smoke.  I want to be the perfume that sticks to your body for the rest of the day. I want to be felt in the air around you.

I don’t want to be your secret. I don’t want to be the sinful piece of chocolate on a cheat day in your diet. I want to be the lollipop you weren’t afraid to lick in daylight. I want to be tasted with unashamed passion.

I don’t want to be your secret. I don’t want to be pages from the dairy of an awkward adolescent, locked away from everyone’s eyes. I want to be the book you flaunt on your office desk to define who you are. I want to define.

I don’t want to be your secret.

I don’t want to be your muse. I don’t want to be your happy place. I don’t want to be your vacation. I don’t want to be your exotic.

I want to be your everyday order of Starbucks. I want to be the Chinese takeaway you love for dinner. I want to be the pen that stops working when you really need it to.

I want to be the cab that takes you home. I want to be those little threads of unease on your otherwise creaseless shirt. I want to be your overused favourite tie.

I want to be everything that is you and everything that you ever will be. I want to be your boring old routine that you do over and over again with a furrow on your forehead.


One thought on “I don’t want to be your secret

  1. I DONT WANT TO BE YOUR SECREAT ‘ ( POETRY)
    Wow wow wow wow wow wow wow wow wow wow wow
    I will experience it multiple times .i will read it everyday . I will make this piece my everyday prayer . I am in love with this creative poetry.after experiencing face book online session of Megha Bajaj where I first time experienced you and Immediately after that session I was looking for reading more of you . I must say I was looking for something which ignites my mind to write a creative message and i thought of reading you . The first master piece that came in front of me is I DONT WANT TO BE YOUR SECREAT , its like I was looking for water in desserts and on the first step it self I located the factory of BISSLERI , it’s like in search of god I left from my home to travel to temple to see the god but as soon as I opened the gate of my home to walk on the path to travel to temple the GOD was right their standing at my gate .

    Un posted letters by MAHATRIA is known as reserve bank of answer .for any question open any page and a answer or a solution is their . I must acknowledge that exactly I was looking for only this kind of a creative poem and on the first page on the first glimpse I was gifted by it .
    I feel as if it was written by you only for me . thank you so much for this beautiful gift.

    This Poettery has the fragrance of bliss and love and it’s baked with cheese and cream of emotions .

    It’s like a dream come through as if I wanted to experience a test match at lords watching the magician Shane warne in action and here I am feeling fulfilled reading the magician writer Nandita . Shane warne weaves magic by bowling mysterious bowling and you have weaved magic by writing such an touching poem . Shane Warner’s bowling is magic but this poem is more than that it’s not magic it’s meditation .

    I stand up and give you standing ovation for creating this beautiful masterpiece.
    You are masters masterpiece .

    Congratulations
    Thank you so much

    Immersed in the poem
    Amar Bohara

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