missing-breaths

How do you define my perforated body aches with meteors dissolving? It’s an harrowing scenario with blood screams, thunders stuck to my backbone. Lipids going haywire and my eyes swollen with a pool of tyranny. Nostrils flutter like vintage sheets of paper, obsolete in obscure point. A point of missing mornings and seasons.
Each night, i hang like a loose memory, thermometer and fever, clinging my spinal cord and striking deaths and sins of sinisters.
The autumn leaves wrapped to my bare skin,defying the existence of bequeathed lives I survived. The midnight burning oils & lamps. The clocks of death. And my earthly body.

I perspire like an old lady, clinging to the curtains of pink breaths. With a casket of stars & hope swallowing like an infant, I fight oh yes I do. I precipitate and conjure in my linings of thin mucus, coughing disgusts and disgusts.
How do you define my motionless body now?©MVS

NaPoWriMo#23

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my valiant soul

A dreamer and a believer for the upliftment of women rights. A published poet, author, writer. Believes in dancing and cooking amazing food for hungry souls at times. Loves to write and write till the moon is satisfied. My writings can be found at Visual Verse, Indian Periodical, Sick Lit mag, Duane's Poetree, Thistle magazine, among various others. Curator of Olive Skins.

39 thoughts on “missing-breaths”

      1. My proses are just little rants from my diaries..I thought they will never make sense to anyone but I am so glad that you are loving them. ❤️ You are always inspiring me. 😊

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      3. Still, everytime you write back to someone you are so down, and sweet, and ….I don’t know I guess you’ve that aura, that right kind of aura, that positive attitude. Maybe. Basically what I’m trying to say is that you write so damn good, and you know the fact very well, still you talk to everyone like they are good too, like they are all great too. But in reality we are just bunch of mean nobodys. And I know that you know that, you understand that shit, but still you do talk down to anyone! You do not downgrade yourself to our levels! You’re all smiles, and humbleness!
        I am a fool with the words I know. I’m sorry! I do not normally do this!

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      4. Actually you are so correct that I am always extremely down to earth, a habit that often puts me in a bad place but I really can’t help it. I intend no harm to anyone and that actually comes up anyhow in my words.
        You are the first one to notice this minuteness.

        Thank you for such soulful words.

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      5. First, I’m Sorry. I deeply regret the way I wrote that comment. It was.. very poor.
        Second, I’m pretty sure everybody notices your gentleness.
        Third, I just read the google preview of your book. You’re great, my friend.

        Liked by 1 person

      6. it’s totally okay.
        It’s once again your kindness that you are being this down to earth.
        And yes, I am not much proud of my that book though still thanks a lot.

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  14. “The autumn leaves wrapped to my bare skin,defying the existence of bequeathed lives I survived. The midnight burning oils & lamps. The clocks of death. And my earthly body.” You bring in time, existence, life and death so well in these lines! ❤ ❤ You really have the art didi! ❤ Beautiful! ❤ ❤
    Just asking, what's it with the breaths being pink in the line "I perspire like an old lady, clinging to the curtains of pink breaths." Please don't mind me asking so many questions. I am not that good with poetry metaphors. You really are an inspiration. The way you put your words, your feels, metaphors, love love love! ❤ ❤ And it's good for my vocabulary too!😉😉😉😉😉😉 I remember using the word "cauldron " in one of my drafts after coming across it a few times. That's probably a month or 2 ago! 😛 😛 😛 😛 So yeah. I love the way you play with the words! Your blog, your Instagram…… everything has the fragrance of your beautiful words! You are poetry, you are art! ❤ ❤

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