Home » Poems » Best » Devita Bhatia » Best Devita Bhatia Poems

Best Poems Written by Devita Bhatia

Below are the all-time best Devita Bhatia poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Devita Bhatia Poem

my heart was yours to break

I never wanted to be your first choice,
Being first implies there's room for a second,
Which provides scope for my demotion,
An endless game,
I paid with my devotion.

If my tears were coloured,
My pillow would be my best work.
My heart aches at the thought of silence without your voice,
Waking up in your warm embrace and your silent gaze.

You said love lasts forever,
So was this never love?
I questioned your claims,
"No one could love you the way I do," you said,
Blindfolded heart and blind eyes didn't see your silent crime.

I used my best colours for your portrait,
And the remaining for myself.

Details | Devita Bhatia Poem

I never knew why

For what I know is poison, I drink anyway,
Not the main character of my own story,
Not the main character of anyone else's anyway.

My happiness was a game you could always win,
Through materialistic possessions,
I only really sought validation.

Validation was a sweet nectar I could never have enough of,
A supplement of hope,
To mask the self-doubt.

Oversized hoodies and baggy jeans didn't hide my insecurities,
The self-help reels I used to scroll through for hours didn't either.
I was not a claw machine of emotions, I wish I was though, I was always good at games.

I never knew why I lied, it was fun, like writing a story that you'd get to tell everyone.
I lied cause my life was too boring and too simple to be liked or to be invested in.
Weaving a story everyone believed was amusing.

I used to imagine conversations before I had them,
A coping mechanism for my very many slip-ups.
I never knew why, I never will.

Details | Devita Bhatia Poem

Love is a crime

Love is a crime,
love is a flaw
love is a lie.

Love makes your heart skip a few beats,
love takes your breath away.
Love, I want them back.

Love stabs you in the back,
and then fixes you up again.
Love is a crime

Love tears you apart and aids you again,
never truly preparing you for the pain you're going to face.
Love is a crime.

I've never been in love,
I've only been a bystander.
Watching his eyes as she walks by.

It's torture,
sweet torture.
Love is a crime.

When I die,
I'll receive my first bouquet.
Not cherished by me but my grave.

The first tears for me will be taken when I die,
I never wanted them to cry,
I just wanted to be remembered.

Happiness was a feeling I'd got used to not having,
love was a feeling I never felt,
Love is merely a crime.

Young and naive,
is something I've never been called.
Never been in love always been apart.

Love is a crime.

Details | Devita Bhatia Poem

for what i am

I’ve always wondered why people enjoy sunsets more than sunrises, I thinks it’s the same way people prefer the novelties of life, I reference myself to sunsets, I’m beautiful when gone and I shine the brightest as I set, like tears welling up on my cheeks the suns rays smudge up.

Like the gentle breeze, I am, I give pleasure for a few moments and then the moment is gone, if I’m too subtle they want me more, if I’m too loud they run inside. The breeze is like a deep sigh, in different situations, it is perceived differently.

As a gush of water falls into a heavy haze, my cascade of emotions falls into a whirlwind of directions. It’s rather difficult to know what one feels if not expressed it the right way, just like a waterfall struggles to fall out the right way.

I often associate myself with a chair, I often wonder if people only talk to me if they want something, this theory proves itself right without a thesis.

I resonate with everything but myself, I’m sad music my life lessons with a melody are therapy for my mentally unfit friends, I’m like the swings I sway in the direction of the wind, my resistance lasts in my head.

Details | Devita Bhatia Poem

615181

I used to hate you,
I don't anymore most of the time I wish I did,
You were the kind of person I would expect to be there for me,
Expectations and reality differ greatly.
Early realisation, if I do say so myself.

I was like that globe on your shelf, 
I often inquired about it on our calls,
You said it does not matter, it never mattered to you.
You took it out when you needed to, 
It never argued it never cried.

Remember our conversations about pomegranates, 
I told you I love them, I love the sweet juice though I love the cut of the tang.
You said you've never had one before,
It was too much hard work for an easily substituted fruit.
I made you try it one day and taught you how to cut it and you did.
You said it was delicious, as the red juice poured down your palm.
I told you, I said, though you said you'll never have it again it was sweet but why have something which requires so much effort and gentleness?
I think you thought of me as a pomegranate,
The only difference between one and I, is that I can decide if I want the cut of the tang.

You were my best friend,
I was not yours,
I loved you greatly,
You didn't.