A Memoir about Prayers and Healing

Things do not attach themselves to our void, till we allow it to occur. Things- broken, upsetting they instill our hearts and soul with remorse and pain. A haunting truth about liberation is when we clench our minds limited only to the point we think we need it, it never occurs. What about the next… Continue reading A Memoir about Prayers and Healing

A purple picture

What is that sits on my backbone? a dissection of reality/ Look around. Pause. Breathe, walk across this painted room. A purple heartbeat, veins of the neon moon glowing, a facet of criss-cross dreams, amniotic sheets of sun-baked earth, observe, wait, observe. It’s an alchemy of genius masterpiece.

a hollow night

” I am terrified by the dark thing that sleeps in me”- Sylvia Plath Cluttered, torrential nights of stone sinking throat,a huge titanic of this time, my sheets turning into white ghost, a ghost of you, my words that were never said. You, the lantern of chipped nights, A mesh of annihilation. You come and… Continue reading a hollow night


It sits there with wallowing lips of seal parched leaf, rotating. lives born out of it. swallowing the sudden deaths, inumerous threads of bruises. walls break, people die like petunia’s deluging sigh cleaved mouths of love. wreckage & survival spilling its flow inside, duality co-exists. i splash the black spot, i smash the black spot.… Continue reading Co-exists


The perimeter of music delivers a song to remember like my elongated legs with blemishes and scars. Bend it, inhale it it suffices the moment, the parts and lies. Life’s beauty is in slithering like a river flow that takes nothing but delivers million muted lessons to live by. Memories and laughters. Soft bruises, soft… Continue reading Consistent


That’s life. Run among the Autumn leaves. Run among your cascading bruises. The skin that is swollen now, the eyes which are full of jaundice, even if fingernails fall. Run. Beneath the tree, under the valley, rub your scars, screech, shout, rub your scars again till you faint , naked facing the mirror of life.… Continue reading Circle

To my Virginia

“Her heart was made of liquid sunsets”- Virginia Woolf So, this is how it starts, backwards and forwards A canopy of fire dwindling in the mercury stars of ocean Routing the past weeds and merciless eyes Imbroglio thunders often attacked me, I threw fits and seizure on these wooden floors on the horizons of your… Continue reading To my Virginia


“I HAVE LEARNED THAT I STILL HAVE A LOT TO LEARN”- MAYA ANGELOU Cracking my pieces of delusions, with your fainted memory like auburn leaves of sun rays, with autumn diluted in veins of winters, I wander and travel my electrolyte body, time and again. In the wilderness of my pituitary, tongues of vague currents… Continue reading Assimilation


MVS What intrigues my eye the most is the sweetness and copious jelly myths of the world. A truth about death and beauty. Shapes genesis hoodwinked as orange sunsets, leveraging. I form petty diluted circles of observance hanging outwards from my malice thighs. A point of dissatisfaction. Itching of my eyelids emphasize that.I become a… Continue reading Aphorism


I desire the things which will destroy me in the end- Sylvia Plath Give me a cauldron, a soaked cotton firmament multiplied and divided, in the sunshine of cigars and the owls of dark Pulverized ropes of hollow imagination, it flatters me. I want to put my foot in the skull of my brain and measure the… Continue reading Cravings


Today, my writing is divine. With the savage to sink myself in words, I am invincible. Language embellishes me like wrapping petals of roses to the moon. I know my heartbeat today, rapturous, melancholic like almond skin. I feel the bruises not the scars for scars are permanent ink. I remember that sad lady lying… Continue reading Words

Vintage Love

“Perhaps when you will leave, you will take something of mine: chestnuts, roses or a surety of roots or boats that I wanted with you, comrade”— Pablo Neruda I doubt the incubation of turgescent moment where my hands might be swollen and your tongue all opaque, I do not wish a lush firmament or kisses… Continue reading Vintage Love

A place like this

The epitome of peach shaped markings, Defining the extended fields of valour and hope, Drooling in my walnut bones, Mingling in my solitary ebb, Lies inside a place where my mother Wakes me up from a cascading nightmare. To the jubilant staircase of rainbow meadows, To catch an intrepid molecule of a butterfly Then to… Continue reading A place like this