soft waves of vulnerability

i see menaround me everywhere.holding their heart in their hands tightly.they paint it with the colour of their flesh,so it would be hard to identify,where they have hidden.there are men who plant bougainvillea in their backyardand wear daisies on their hair.keep sunflowers in their books and paint skies of their skin colour.keeping all the vulnerabilities…

on heart and hurt.

i repeat the alphabet from a to z,except for the letter u. you see, when i read the letter u,it reminds me of "u- you"and "us".and then, it demands meto cry in seven different languages.i start learning to codewhenever someone chooses to leave.i needed to find something hardto keep my heart busier,so it won't cry…

tw-

my grief often tries to fool me,but it knows no language.when i am happy and full,i don't talk with them.but on days,when things are upside down, i tell them not to visit me whilesleeping or eating ortrying to survive, yet another day.and they misunderstandthinking i am calling them homeand their neighbours for a stay. they…

dosa; power booster

TW- dosa.d-o-s-a.doooosaaaa. dosa, it's a power booster.it gave me strength. always.my mother told me now, that,when i was six,whenever i was in need of powers and strength, she used togive me this, to eat.dosa;round, white and beautiful. when i was twelve,he made me sit onhis lap, and complimented me,"you are hot".his hands touched me the…

on distance and you.

talking to you often feels likea bunch of questions unanswered.you keep repeating thati can ask. ask. ask. but you leave in between always,like the morning coffee you don't finishfor some reason, and the reason you haven't told me, yet.we often sit with each otherkeeping the distance minimum.but it always feels likewe both are in different…

//thank you- for passing by

"i was sad yesterday.am sad today.and will be sad, tomorrow. too."this is what i tattooedon my flesh. to never let go out of the painwhich keep hurting me. i kept reading about the things,which always went wrong. as people told me, andreminded how useless i am. i painted my sunflower,white.i colored my skies,white.i filled myself…

grief: a home for all kinds of love.

grief to me feels like, the bodyi have touched before, but can't recall it's face. i don't know if it's familiar to me,or completely unknown. if they wear kohl in their eyes,or just keep them, naked. not sure, if they like the three pm's more, or the three am's. i don't know in which language…

untitled: 01

and there, i sit and make a list of everythingwhich possibly would make me smile, and make me feel less lonely, for a while.i start with you, usand then, them.~everything and everyone connected and related to you~the bedsheets, the table, and the cup;our home.the benches, the flowers, and the cans;our garden.the books, the pens, and…

H is for hope!

i remember when i was five,i asked my father to pluck that flowerwhich was there on the top of the branch.and, he really did. he didn't complain nor shouted for choosing the most difficult one, but smiled.and that was the day, i wrote on the wall that my father is a superhero,people have to know.or…

poetry; a home..

there were nights,where, i looked for sunshine, so thatthe scars on and in me,may heal.where, i begged stars,to come down and make me fall asleep. where, the dark side of the moon made me feel safe and home, more thanthe the body i carry. the choas in me was too much that,i failed to acknowledgewho…