You Are Just A Thought Far Away For Deciding What You Wanna Be.

When Celine in before sunrise said, “I like to feel his eyes on me when I look away.”

When Praveen Shakir said, “sabse nazar bacha ke wo mujhe kuch aise dekhta, ek dafa toh ruk gai gardish-e-mah-o-sal bhi.”

And Jaun Elia said, “Jab uska deedar hota hai, dil ko sukoon milta hai, Aankhon me uski tasveer sajti hai, yaadon ka ghar ban jata hai”

And Faiz Ahmed Faiz said, “teri surat se hai aalam me baharo ko sabaat, teri aankhon k siwa dunia me rkha kya hai”

you touched me when i was the most unpure. you cleaned me when i was stained with their words. i've been drained like the waste and wandered between depth of ocean. water took away my thirst but it couldn't pacify the burn that was rising inside me. i drank all those dews, every morning, all midnights, just to live. they were poison, i was dying. and i couldn't figure out what was wrong with me until i was laid on my death bed. all of the people i have seen in my life till that day came to see me but no one ever, not even once, tried aware me of all those thorns that could have pricked my whole. i am still sinking and i will forever do until i reach to the end. i am thankful to you for washing away my bruises but i could never forget that you were the one to drown me. you let me sink till my lungs were filled with water and there was no place for air for me to breathe. i was gone and dead.

-Aakriti.

~sink(water).

The Letter to Nobody

Dearest,

It is cold today. After a week-long heat wave, the bay area has cooled down. It even rained the other day - what a treat!

The rain has clarified the skies. I didn’t know the blue of the Californian skies could be any bluer. But they could. They have: And they remind me of home.

I am inundated with assignments. I read most of the afternoons. I don’t remember my eyelids being tired this way. This tiredness is new to me, as are the golden sycamore leaves, the souvenirs of autumn. My first fall in the US, tired from reading stories all day long.

Fall.

Such a terse, poetic name for a weather.

You were startled by my admiration when I first admitted it to you. I suspect it struck you as incorrect. In a way, you were right.

Why should the spring buds admire the fall? Why should they indulge in the promise of death, decay, falling?

Fall. 

It is relaxing just to even pronounce it out loud. My muscles groan. In the distant skies, the clouds have thinned out into round patches that look like doily. I smile. I always wanted to learn crocheting. I know I never will. But I will look at doilies and I will look at doily-looking clouds and tell myself I wanted to learn crocheting. Why do I do this? Who am I lying? And I am not even lying. I would like to learn crocheting but only if life was a little longer than it is. I shift my gaze back to my screen. Words. I love them. 

Rustle. Why do I have to be distracted like this?

A swarm of desiccated sycamore leaves. It is cute that they always travel in a band. My windowsill is their nestling place. The specters of autumn. 

Is this a goodbye? Are you here to say goodbye? 

I say goodbye out loud. The leaves receive my idiocy with solemn indifference. 

Indifference. You pretended but you couldn’t be half as indifferent as these leaves. 

I never understood why you, with all your appetite for the unknown, should be threatened by the admiration. But admiration is threatening. In old french, it means to regard the person in awe.

It is threatening to be regarded with awe. What if we couldn’t live up to it? What if our existence contaminates someone’s pool of awe? Will we be able to live with so much guilt?

I understand you better now. Now that you are gone.

You indeed disappointed me. You faltered when it mattered the most. You betrayed my trust more than once.

Strangely enough, life is setting up a reverse drama for me. I have a far younger boy approach me with the admiration I had for you. And I feel burdened. I try to tell him that this is stupid. And it is. I know it is, because I have been stupid. But he persists. He brings me tea and chocolates.

I am waiting to break his heart. But that is the only way forward. Doesn’t mean I didn’t care for him. I want him to fly higher.

You are dead. Every day, life teaches me how/why to forgive you. I forgive you. One carelessness a day. You were also petty. Just like me. None of us can rise higher than our fears. At least, not all at once.

I forgave you this today - your suspicion of me. 

- bhushita

i want to fall in love, all over again.

🦇 Starry Night x Halloween by Aja Trier 🦇

there's always something i hide, something i whisper to myself at middle of the night.

-august/fictionflaws

broken glasses and broken hearts are

shattered in the sky, bare and uneven

darkest and coldest every night

my skin still feels the heat of burn

our love begun with tulips and red roses

these days it seems our garden is withered

we promised to protect eachother

now i am blind and everything is blurred.

all my dusks and daws were tears

and i bathed heavily in your thoughts

i was in the delusion of our perfection

little did i know, there were unseen spots

we are the culprit and we did the crime

there is no one else to blame

i did love you with all that I had

and you burned me with your flame

~august.

he tortures me with his gaze, i am so stupid to fall for him.

-august/fictionflaws

10.49AM FRI 21 OCT 2022.

they don't see the dew on the leaves which were my tears because those aren't from my eyes.

they don't know i cannot cry because i am just an echo of desert, and everything is dry.

instead of my eyes, my heart cries.

my heart yells evertime a nail is pierced on my soul which is so concealed that it is as invisible as air.

i have no place to shed tears. i have no home to weep.

for me, these leaves cry. they know the pain i am enduring. they understand my heartache.

i have eyes but they see me more. they are my companion in my best and worse. they give me a way to breathe.

i could never be more thankful to what earth gave me and how soil is always giving me a place to keep my feet on.

i am fortunate enough to have a friend no one else has.

                                                    Untitled

I’ll not love you in songs,

My love will be shown to you by writing poems on your name.

Sports aren’t something I’m keen about,

But for sure I’ll gaze at you as most beautiful prize while you watch your favourite game.

I wonder if you’ll know how love is shown in books,

Would you be able to see me beyond my appearance, my looks?

In this field of affection I’m a beginner,

Getting your presence in my life will make me the most successful winner.

I’m just an unsolved puzzle with no clues,

But I can promise to cheer you up whenever you’re feeling blue.

I would love to become the reason behind your smile,

I don’t desire for big gesture but holding your hands through every aisle.

I wonder if it would be like fairy tales.

But wait, if Romeo-Juliet is your favorite rom-com then we might not click,

Because I grew up listening tales about Ram-Sita, Radhe-Krishn, Muna-Madan which makes you lovesick.

I could not give you expensive gifts to keep or wear,

 All I have to offer is affection, admiration, respect, trust, and care.

Books-of-insecurities