My being is hanging out with the thought of being myself at almost all the times and the urge to be anything but me.Thought is an act of violence. The urge to be somethingbut me, is the violence against what I am. The urge to be nowhere but near you. Is it possible for a… Continue reading A City of heartbreaks
Distance between wordsis our home. I hang my words on thered thread around your neckand everytime I look at youit reminds me of the factthat my poems and you are one,Talking about chillsI never met anyone like you, none. Your smile reminds me of the skyunder which we first met,and the summer breezetake me back… Continue reading You and poems
Those honey coated eyes were the “okay.” to every “okay?” I used to throw, when sheets used to haunt me In search of rhythm, to him I used to go. The one named after my favourite colour In his smile I used to see the rainbow, Every mountain was his own and every stream he… Continue reading Pockets full of Cosmos.