MY SCREEN IS A MIRROR OF MYSELF
How do you manage screen time for yourself?
Read More MY SCREEN IS A MIRROR OF MYSELFAt the heart of intensity.
How do you manage screen time for yourself?
Read More MY SCREEN IS A MIRROR OF MYSELF“Tuesdays are honest days.” he continued. “They don’t flatter you with new beginnings or soft landings. They plant themselves in the spine of the week and demand an accounting.” For me, these have always been Wednesdays. Wednesday is when the sun shines the progress of the week like a shadow against the white wall of […]
Read More WEDNESDAYSThere’s a venomous needle in her snow flaked heart. A needle that swims up, through, down and past all the glory of the world and yearns to destroy. It passes the glory of god drinking by the stream and smiles inwardly, sardonically, knowingly. The life-giver of monsters. It has Gaia’s wrath in its breath, in […]
Read More VERATRUM: SNOWFLAKES OF MONSTROSITYThere is a subtly unsettling humming in this house, Rustling voices of spectres threatening to run their claws down the skin on my back. My stomach is a permanent stone; My blades ache from the tension of holding all of them away. Every breath is stuffed with scratchy fibres. Skincare bleeds right off my face, […]
Read More TRIGGER ZONETorrid kisses on the sidewalk,Veins etched on glass.Lips, soft like petals,Half fierce, half feline.Mist swells into heat between our irregular breaths.Hunger oozing out into each others’ mouths. It’s September. It’s rainy. The air is dank, heavy and cold. I walk down the street, brooding, caught up head, neck and shoulder in my fantastical day dreams. […]
Read More THE RAINDROPS THAT FELL OFF, WHERE THE LIGHTNING CRACKED THE SKY.Sand is sand until it quivers under a lens, Then it’s a conglomeration of shy grazed jewels. A child is but a child until her soul is flattened by shell fire. A child is a child until her mother’s blood is sprayed on her face, Until the stench of burnt relatives eats away at her […]
Read More the lost children of warThere is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Read More Protected: THE Y-SHAPED STAIN ON EVERYONE’S CHEST.I was about to pick the Oreo off the shelf,But the Manji was cheaper, and that too, for more grams.So I picked the Manji up and dropped it onto my cart,Because money must be saved at all costs.As I walked awayMy tongue swelled with saliva at the blue glossy packet I’d left behind,The tantalising dark […]
Read More OREOSometimes there’s a dip,A damp persisting dip.Like the small depression that forms when a child steps on a spongy mattress;And it dilutes all the colour in my brain,About two shades lighter.And my eyes view the world through a translucent curtain,In colour, but paralyzingly pale.And my sentiments develop a grainy quality,A bit gritty to the touch,Like […]
Read More My soul feels pallidI have a rage in me that my body cannot contain,I want to swallow the world in whole,Gnash it with my teeth until it’s a masticated mess I can spit on the ground, and stomp on with my feet.I want to make the clouds stand still and wail,Wail with the bottomlessness of a well at […]
Read More A JAR OF RAGE