I must ask you
What is this place made of
I’ve heard somewhere
we are all stardust
Full of cosmos that’s infinite
no end, no middle
So where am I
why you come to me in blurry sunlight
and the rain dispersing yellow shade of night light
That is so thick
that it made me ignore the shadows of the pit
I fell into
when I fell for you
Is that shadow also stardust?
I must ask you
Why the night air so thick so fluid
passing like river down the mountain
when it’s uncontrollably young
I must ask you
Who were you?
BTW I don’t love you anymore...
But that love was like dense grass
that’s soft and green and unusually tall
that covers the land entirely
It’s beautiful until your skin is all red
But you made it blue
It is my favourite colour by the way
and yours is green
we are evergreen grassland
which is burnt now
I’ll keep writing
Bcs writing doesn’t know it’s the end
It’s Just 17
Made of dream
Full of everything
full of you and me
full of nothing
I’ll grow out of it
But growing out means growing in too
And
Day like this will come again
The Days of remembering...
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 1:03 AM UTC
My soul circulates between
Cranium
Lungs
Seminal vesicle
Mar 1
Mar 1, 2026 at 5:02 AM UTC
I meditate with my thumb
Store cries in my lump
Speak panic through my nose
Only express pain in my toes
Love with my lips
Hate with my tongue
Smile with cheeks
Cry with lungs
Talk with hands
Speak with eyes
Hurt in bones
And the funny thing is—
Nobody knows
Feb 28
Feb 28, 2026 at 9:47 AM UTC
You
kissed me like ice cream.
I melted on your lips.
You tasted the flavour
of indigo sadness
And black coffee.
The aroma of vanilla-oil
and sweat,
and our breath
dissolving
into each other.
My soul diffusing
to my mouth—
to feel your heart,
your tongue,
your teeth.
I cried
somewhere in between.
I wish I knew why—
when you asked me.
Maybe—
as you cracked open my eyes,
my control, and my autonomy
showed the difference between
closeness and proximity,
being held and being yours,
Being one love, one body
when you kissed my head,
while I was disintegrating.
Erasing
the spring that was rotting inside of me
from years and years
of selling my body
for love—
and calling it love.
It was profanity.
It’s raining.
The sound of it
collides
in the futile echoes
of the room.
Even after you went home,
I can still hear you.
And it bites—
the smell of you,
heavy
on my pillow,
as you bite me,
softly,
like ice cream.
Now
I know myself more,
but don’t know
who I am anymore.
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 9:40 PM UTC
heard a forty-year-old couple fighting.
The words were nails.
They kept hammering.
It felt like they shouldn’t be together here—
in a mall.
I thought it’s not worth a chance.
We’ll end up like that,
a cartoon train derailed,
fighting like our lives depend on it.
No matter how hard we try to stay away,
entropy waits.
Then I ate sweet corn
and walked around.
I saw them sitting in the thinning crowd,
quiet on a bench.
The sting of bad mouths still there.
But
he is holding her tight,
her head on his shoulder.
I love you.
Feb 1
Feb 1, 2026 at 9:03 AM UTC
Sitting in the park
same bench
since the second time we met.
Cigarette butts and evening grass and strangers stare–still.
I don’t look down on you,
I’m just tall.
But you look up across the sky.
You said Virgo and Libra go just well
Well,
As Astraea was a poet's pen
yet still a hypocrite—
She chose darkness
and left the balance scale to adrift
in zero gravity.
It's quite how our story is
Isn't it?
Now we walk side by side,
hands in pockets.
It’s not that cold outside.
I’m trying to solve crosswords
in our words
There is black coffee bitterness—
I’m too young for that.
But you look for answers in stars.
Maybe if you didn’t look that far,
when I’m right here,
so close to you
Jan 31
Jan 31, 2026 at 9:29 PM UTC
"Nobody can make you feel small" you said
Sitting on my right leg
Chocolate wrappers in coffee mugs
On a couch, it feels like Christmas
Though no one here celebrate
And I made you read the last poem
I chuckled
"That's the dumbest...no second dumbest thing you ever said"
You said
"Don't give those eyes, they precipitate"
Then you started kissing me
When you were halfway out the door
I asked you to say something nice
You said, "I love you"
Jan 31
Jan 31, 2026 at 9:28 PM UTC
heard a forty-year-old couple fighting.
The words were nails.
They kept hammering.
It felt like they shouldn’t be together here—
in a mall.
I thought it’s not worth a chance.
We’ll end up like that,
a cartoon train derailed,
fighting like our lives depend on it.
No matter how hard we try to stay away,
entropy waits.
Then I ate sweet corn
and walked around.
I saw them sitting in the thinning crowd,
quiet on a bench.
The sting of bad mouths still there.
But
he is holding her tight,
her head on his shoulder.
I love you.
Jan 31
Jan 31, 2026 at 9:27 PM UTC
I’m a hibiscus
I’m rare to myself
when I bloom.
To love me
is to love the blooming
as much as I do,
and the rest
just the same.
It’s funny
how love can only define love.
No painter’s satchel
holds the moment—
so perpetually transient.
But you—
**** bones, angry sorrow.
Air in my hand,
a lonely painter full of rain,
an eclipse moon
on your lower lip.
You are the black hole
between your courtroom-brown iris.
And I—
I’m just a hibiscus.
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 5:28 PM UTC
I saw you as a sweet boy—
you taste like ice.
Love is a cool word
thrown across the screen light.
You said you want me—
alive,
in your life.
I can fall again
for that smile,
until I’m just a wishbone
drying in the kitchen window.
I might be unhappy.
I am a poem,
I am sick.
You are a doctor
with a drill in your fist.
Bhavika warned,
“Barbaric at best.”
How can I blame you?
You just want to keep me
alive.
But isn’t it enough
to be me,
to be loved?
Is this love,
or a lovotomy?
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 1:48 PM UTC