I am.

I am the sunlight that falls on your face At dawn. I am the breeze that hits you all over. I am the crisp smell of leaves. I am the sand, the mud, the dust You walk on. I am the rain that cleanses your soul. I am something that’s whole. A world that’s revolving... Continue Reading →



I love. I love hard. Maybe a little too hard. But that’s okay, isn’t it ? Because it makes me feel...alive. Makes me feel like the centre piece of a puzzle. Makes me feel like I’m in the right place, with the right person. You make me believe in magic. That my hands can make... Continue Reading →

Hello 2018

  I think it’s safe to say that 2017 has been a terrible year for me and for a lot of other people in general. 2017 has been the year where I had a lot of anxiety attacks, went into depression and just consistently hated myself throughout the year. It’s been the least productive years... Continue Reading →

Entry #1

I don't know. I don't know you. I don't know how messy or slick your hair is. I don't know how pink your lips are And it kills me Because I'm searching And I don't know what to look for. What is it that I must look for to find you? Thousands of people pass... Continue Reading →

The world in me

I’m just like every other person on the outside. A human. The nose, skin, hair, hands, legs, toes…but inside – Inside me is a whole new world. A cosmic- it holds the most beautiful things within it. What do you see when you look at me? The world in me? Or The superficial body I... Continue Reading →


Have you seen her? The girl who looks like me- but not quite. She smiled more often, Her laugh was mesmerising, the way she moved around looked like she was dancing. She was art that I had failed to see I lost her. One day, I said go and she left. I threw her out... Continue Reading →


There are two types of writers when something devastating occurs. Those who write and write and write. That ‘devastating occurrence’ makes them want to write and write and write. They manage to create a delicate, beautiful, vulnerable piece of work from their sorrow. The second type consists of writers who break. Their minds go blank... Continue Reading →

Incongruous murder.

    Listen to me. Listen closely. Stop. Stop pretending. Stop being someone who you aren’t. Aren’t you exhausted of being ‘her’ or ‘him’ or ‘that person’ or ‘that body-less shadow’? Be you. You. Do what you want. Eat what you want. Laugh all you want. The minute you start taking into consideration about what... Continue Reading →


    What do you see? Are those honeysuckles wrapped around your body – or are those bloodstained hands? What do you see? Do you see every hair on your body – or are you tainted, altered beyond the point of recognition? Are you afraid? Afraid of that – yourself? How sharp your edges have... Continue Reading →

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