The man who pumped my gas today sang softly to
himself in Hindi. I think he was singing to the ache
in the place where winds used to blow, east past the
highway that cuts his small town in two.

I know how it feels, how distance cleaves
the syllables of home in half, the way my
tail lights must look like the setting sun,
falling asleep over the wrong ocean.

*Music: Mi Mancherai



He is a black hole
consuming me
under the moonlit
wakefulness of dreams,
touching and colliding
on hungry, breathless
little kisses, filling the
sky with all the love
I carry, until I am nothing
but stardust and
faded suns.

*For #wildwondrouswords #febwwwchallenge hosted by @cc_writes
Background art by @hallieartwork


You have twisted yourself around
me, entangled in fingers, in words,
in limbs, in sheets. We don’t have
the greatest luck on our side,
but I promise, I will keep loving
you like this. Wear my words, like
a vow like a promise on your skin,
I will keep loving you like this.

*For #wildwondrouswords #febwwwchallenge hosted by @cc_writes
Background art by @monaa_mf

There’s nothing wrong

I call myself a people person, but if I’m being honest, I think it’s just out of necessity because I’m good with people.

Is this normal for my age? To prefer the company of my books and my cats and my laptop and the inside of my own head to that of most people? Maybe I’ve seen too much, done too much, loved too many, been hurt too many times.

Maybe because of this my soul is ten times older than my chronological age, and it just wants to fucking rest already. It scares me a little. But maybe that doesn’t mean I’m not okay.

P. S. It’s funny how when I posted this in instagram, I got messages saying I should not be a loner. There’s a big difference between being alone and being lonely.

Good news

I want to be the sort of scripture that
you are not afraid to call Good News.
I’d like to be the verses that
sink through your blood stream
and anchor themselves to your pulses
when you are unsure of this world.

I don’t want you to worship the
frayed binding of my spine, but
I want to be the reason you believe
in something bigger than the parables
etched in my skin like hymns.

The background music is the intro of the song 🎶 Hamari Adhuri Kahani 💔
Background artwork from the amazing gallery of @tanyashatseva, no copyright infringement intended

Memory is flawed.

It dredges up only the best and the worst of things, and never the uneventful and mundane. I’m sure we’ve had a lot more memories, yet I can’t remember mornings that were as simple as making a cup of coffee or just us sitting beside you in silence. I’m sure there were days where we fought just so we could passionately make up, and nights that ended blissfully, but they are buried deep beneath the darkness of the cracks that ended us.

I am sorry if the latter is all I can remember. Our legacy deserves better, but memory is flawed, and I have nothing.

*For Day 29, Our Poetry Journey Contest
January’s theme: abc’s Revenge