when i was young, my obsidian orbs would bleed crimson tears of agony that drove mortals wild with bloodlust. now, I’m fifteen aeons away from the battles they waged to quench the ardour raging in the darkest pits of their marred souls. I’ve spent every second of my accursed existence fostering love in the cracksContinueContinue reading “war poems for my grief”
Category Archives: poems
four things i love today
I’ve spent fifteen years and seven days on earth and a lot of this time has been wasted on things that make me feel bad about myself. hence, I’ve been ignorant the fact I love and am grateful for a few things, more than anything else in this world. I came across this prompt~ ‘4ContinueContinue reading “four things i love today”
my poetry is not art
my metaphors are synonymous with ashy paint peeling off chipped cracked walls of rundown houses at the outskirts of town. my best friend tells me those houses are haunted, she tells me my poems aren’t. but I see the fear brimming beneath her onyx lashes when she sees my blanched eyes glinting like the clubContinueContinue reading “my poetry is not art”
the world is red (dead)
tw: self harm, suicide goosebumps rise up on my skinwhen I trace the names i’ve drawn(carved) with shards of the mirror(my soul) on the swell of my hips. my lovers say my hips were (are)too wide and too burdensome to becaressed by their meagre hand spans. so I relieve them of this burden andinstead wearContinueContinue reading “the world is red (dead)”
love is a pungent hoax
~aishvarya// love is a pungent hoax “you dont trust me””yes I do”, you whisper.”prove it”. our chapped lips meet in a passionate embrace in a secluded corner behind the asphalt bricks of our rusty school building, away from the discerning eyes of teachers and students and surveillance cameras. we kiss; the tangy essence of lemonContinueContinue reading “love is a pungent hoax”
lemures in my spirit
tw: self harm, death, spirits Few months ago, I’d spent afternoonsin your lap watching your wintry lips spewtales of lemures that besieged the dreamsof star crossed mortals and inundated theirspirit in bubbling potions of manic visions. Now I spend those afternoons pouringvenom over the scars I etch on my accursedwrists with shards of demented glass,ContinueContinue reading “lemures in my spirit”
of storms and sorrows
puffed misty orbs lour the ether withsullen moods and disgruntledemotions, casting looming shadowsover blanched concrete skylines. petulant sentiments flash throughhaze in blinding streaks that illuminatesallow guise adorned by the sky,igniting every lofty element that daresto suppress their fearful articulation. thunderous whimpers are forlorncries that shatter the doleful silencelike woebegone wails of ailing spirits;they traumatise dreamsContinueContinue reading “of storms and sorrows”
how did I forget myself?
tw: violence, bullying, prostitution people often ask me why I can’t recollectthe most trivial things in my life.I wonder why they expect me,who has long forgotten who she was,to remember anything else in this world? however, I won’t ask them this,i know they won’t understandthe bliss that courses through my bloodeach time amnesia overpowers myContinueContinue reading “how did I forget myself?”
I lay hidden beneathlayers of my personathat protect the bona fideparts of my fragile mindfrom all the negativitythrown into my life.but these flimsy layersdon’t stay cello-tapedon me forever, they crumbleand peel off like withered skinwhen the seasons change.each time, I lie bare facedand exposed to the world,that acknowledges my uniquenessthrough taunts I do not wishContinueContinue reading
thoughts that plague my privilege
there is something about rainy daysthat makes me recollect thoughtsI wish to erase from my mind. why?because they remind me ofthe privilege I’ve been blessed withsince the day I took my first breath. these thoughts remind me offetuses, overpowered by drugsin their mother’s wombs;who, unlike me never got a chanceto witness the plight of theContinueContinue reading “thoughts that plague my privilege”
museum at home on a moon-lit night
moonlight seeps into my roomthrough the gap between my curtainsand casts a pale, eerie glow that makestiny specks of dust break dance at midnight. the luminiscence accentuates thecracks on the walls, and segregates therightful territories of spiders and lizardslike boundaries on the world map. the dolls on my bed have kawaii eyesat daytime; but theContinueContinue reading “museum at home on a moon-lit night”
cotton candy clouds
a gust of wind blows by meas I sit on the desolate terraceof my three storeyed apartment,looking for inspiration to writefor the umpteenth time this month.however, I soon find myselfdistracted by cotton candy cloudssailing through the afternoon skylike ships on the Andaman Sea. there is something about cloudsthat never cease to fascinate me.(that’s probably whyContinueContinue reading “cotton candy clouds”
aishvarya 