How do you manage to keep goingwithout the urge to throw yourselfaway?How does it feel like hearing everythingbut your own heart?Does it really get better with time?Do layers of skin mange to cover it all? Tell me how you escaped the pitof rusty flowers decoratinghumnae need of art,Is there a way to escape your shadow?Have… Continue reading Shadows
Most foolish act is to break down a minute. Time seems to be the most visible truth, unbiased and irrational or it’s engulfed by the past yearning for tomorrow?For half a second, I’ll let the grief leave and try to look for good, for they say, you find happiness when you look for it. It… Continue reading 30 of 60
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
A poem, you ask? I sit here and think, wondering whatwe are, when doors are shutTight and hard. Alright, I will come with you for the trippy fight;also, came with my freshly chewed skin,All the prose and adjectives are hereWe’ll keep them the way they have always been. Let me give you a guilt trip… Continue reading Things that matter.
In his Letters to Milena, Kafka wrote,‘You are the knife I turn inside myself;that is love. That, my dear, is love.’ And I can’t help but wondernumber of times I ate my own skinto feel your touch on my lips.And number of times I died,trying to reason with unknown.In search of words I travelthrough my… Continue reading I’m dying poetry
Here’s to unbelievable 2 years. I am very fortunate to stick around here for this long time and of course it’s all because ALL OF YOU. Thank you very much for believing in my words and staying here. Your constant support keep me going. I changed my blog URL this August ( in first week)… Continue reading 731 days of mermaid
Reblogging/ re-posting this, because my reach ( along with visibility of blog to people) and will to write here, is messed. I once heard someone say The world inside your head is barren, But I brush that thought away For who they are to think they know. The spring came but I failed to fix… Continue reading Illusion.
Words will leave meat the end of this poemjust like your loveleft societies and heartsday by day ormaybe it was never there.Maybe I am too delicate.Breathing before I suffocate.Am I too slowto cope up with themornings, days and seconds?But I still am very receptivetowards love, affectionand the foundations ofyour faiths and religions.Everyday I hear lipsshouting… Continue reading //Love is Love//
The times are hard and my fears keep getting worse. In these fleeting moments, there are things I‘m scared of and care about.And then, there’s me.I’m my greatest accomplishment. I crave attention and validation from myself and write long paragraphs with weird rhythms to make sense of things around.I like to think of myself as… Continue reading // of fears and discouragement//
Holding on doesn’t always have to be about people or the stained memories, it’s more complex than what we know. I often leave my poems and pause midway to reminisce the fleeting moments, to find you there once again, which apparently has become my favourite thing to do.I always try to find my face there, try… Continue reading The art of holding on