It’s raining almost every second day,
and I’m learning to bloom from the earth,
From life less branches to bed of dead leaves,
something inside of me is telling me to know my worth.
Sun is always shining over mountains
still, there is this darkness in the woods,
dripping down the lifeless branches
in a way only hope could.
My mind feels quiet than usual
sending the shivers down my spine,
these fingers gripping core of my skin
bringing my stars back to shine.
Sun rays are claiming my body;
reaching the places which need hope the most,
With every breath, life is teaching me to live a little;
I’m falling for love, almost.
Once I met a broken sunset
stunning in pink and beautifully alone,
He was tip toe-ing through twilight
asking me to step into unknown.
My inside and out felt like stones
but I was willing to know what it has to say,
For sometimes the most ordinary things become blessings
and I had nothing to do, anyway.
He took me to the core of colours
and said he can give me all of them,
And he asked me:
Humans talk about the lonely hearts that bleed in silence whole night, but what about the open wounds that stinks at 2 pm?
From silent poetry to screaming voice of art
I have met people, creative from the heart.
They tried to teach structure and rhythm but who they are to decide what we are?
I have seen pioneers of colours
and words – the weapons which give scars and help the world win wars.
From Van Gogh to Franz Kafka
all the names make me want to paint stars,
Sometimes I resonate with Rupi Kaur’s wolves but my heart is trapped in Sylvia’s “The Bell Jar” .
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.
named after my favourite colour
In his smile
I used to see the rainbow,
Every mountain was his own
and every stream
he used to know.
were the narrow roads
and wide sea used to
inspire him the most,
For they said he carried galaxies
within his eyes
had pockets full of cosmos.