I think of all the pages dying every night in the grave of your spit.
People often talk about the ground slipping from under their feet, but have you ever felt it slipping right back?
I look down at my empty palms holding on to nothing but a blackness that has no shade, a hope that has no name.
A poster and a thought.
‘Naked’ And to my mother’s ears, it’s ‘Blasphemy’. I wonder what’s more suffocating, the fact that I am Naked and a mere reflection of her or the fact that she’s had her eyes closed this whole time? The society is the most illusionary mirror to ever exist. It shows you what you desire, but atContinue reading “Naked”
All the night Creatures crawled up to my desk ~ & I wondered… What Creature am I in their language? The one with the touch of Death or the God with untimely sunlight ~ as bright as a snowfall in the raging summers? They keep coming back, I don’t think they’ve a name for me.Continue reading “Night Creatures”
An excerpt from a poem, a question to myself and fellow writers; Will you write yourself?
On this day, I want to celebrate trust, dependency and sensitivity. It’s a blessing to be able to rely on friends and family. As a woman, I’ve seen a considerable level of criticism/unwanted suggestions coming my way because of my choices in life. However, these pricking truths are not the only facet to my life.Continue reading “Happy Women’s Day”
Writing for a purpose, specially one that’s for a long term, can be so difficult to provide an impetus to. I’ve been so frustrated and annoyed at myself for the past few months. I was in a similar position at the beginning of the previous year, but it was for all the different reasons. AndContinue reading “On Writing”
i grew up as independent as the roof on my head, but i still needed the walls to float i sometimes feel like the plants sittingoutside my window, just observing my life maybe this is just an astral lie or maybe im a stray dog looking for a shed to sleep under im a windowContinue reading “of independence & french fries”