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mina-rider
Indian Pragmatic dreamer, bamboozling conversationalist, digression expert, typo-master, have a compulsion for originality, headstrong, confessional poet, consciously generous, in pursuit of happiness and gloriously mislead by its kind.
Do you think of me, like I think of you? Not in passing, but with deliberation, like coffee, and groceries and to-do lists. But in pursuit like happiness, and ambition, and balloons. But with longing, like music, and books and food. But to no end like time, and life and a foul mood. Do you think of me, like I think of you?
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Jun 25, 2022
Jun 25, 2022 at 12:58 PM UTC
Not In Passing
I look at the mirror to only find her staring back, she who's mastered the art of smiling and to hide those stray tear tracks. Silence is her weapon of choice, it's edgy tip enough to raise dread, in face of her frosty ire, one would prefer the bursts of temper instead. Like the duck that paddles in calm, she too rests surrounded by muck and underneath, her fury churns, ready to blast it all to dust, She's picked up every insult, stored it in a corner to recollect and designs her story of vindication ripping apart every shred of regret. Her hands are coated in blood of the desires that she choked to death she has emerged strong from battles and slayed monsters who rest under her bed. The dirt underneath her nails should tell you the moral of her story, she is not deterred by pain, she is not enamored by false glory. I see her staring back at me, and raise her chin in pride, her scars wave the sign of victory, I only need to follow in stride.
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Aug 13, 2020
Aug 13, 2020 at 9:52 AM UTC
She
It has been some time since I started loving myself, I am now ready for someone else to do it as well. Staring into the dark, many questions I have asked and I am still awaiting replies. Tired of holding my knees by my arms, while I tell myself not to cry. I am the modern day woman, with her head in the sky and her heart has gone stone cold. I am living on dreams, which are little white lies I tell to give myself hope. It has been some time since I started loving myself, I am now ready for someone else to do it as well. My rocky past has left scars and every time I look in the mirror they tell me I’ve taken things too far The armor was to have a ***** a confession to be made in time, I think but now it has turned inside out. The dregs of strength, I have left tt all reside within my head, in collusion with endless doubts. It has been some time since I started loving myself, I am now ready for someone else to do it as well. Don’t be fooled by my high heels, small skirts and those bright smiles. I’m the same one to smokes up my pride and name mistakes on speed dial May be I am cursed of things like endurance and such, and happiness will come edgewise. It has been some time since I started loving myself, I am now ready for someone else to do it as well.
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Jun 23, 2020
Jun 23, 2020 at 7:39 AM UTC
Someone else
I cannot find that phrase again, a phrase I had seen on a page, of one of my favorite books. That phrase made me feel warm and light, lifted something within me, something I cannot describe, words cannot truly represent what that phrase did to me, it just evoked many strange emotions. I have strewn around every book I own, ruffled through every page, rummaged through every nook and corner, hoping to spot a familiar color, assuming I will find it in a familiar place. I worry I may never find that book, and those words, I will never again read, but I truly worry, fear even, is that I'll not remember how it made me feel.
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Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 2:11 AM UTC
That Book
The shadows change their length, the sky changes color, while my days continue to blend and I can't tell one from another. Days pass and nights end, while I seem stuck between the two, there is a pattern to my waking hours and the few minutes of borrowed sleep. I keep making the same mistakes, sometimes feel like waking up is one too, or may be it is in thinking things will be different, when the sounds are muted, and the feelings few. Being in limbo makes you feeling light, like a fluff of down carried in the breeze, but I don't feel light, I feel heavy, like an anchor rooted to the bottom of the sea. I have questions, oh so many, but it is not answers that I am truly after, I want to be un-stuck and propelled forward, right out of this one, into the next chapter.
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Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 2:02 AM UTC
Next Chapter
When I stand on rooftops I tend to scan my options; hard concrete, soft bushes, or the corner site of construction. On the highway in a cab I calculate the force of momentum, passing trucks that could easily crush any object that rolled out in random. On the shore of a noisy sea, while others frolic I look to the line that always beckons so sweetly, it's the end what I think to find. Passing trains and sharp knives, the blunted razor in my shower, bags of plastic in my house the thoughts come at any hour. It never really does go away, the desire to shut my eyes and forget, but like a game of cards, I place my hand to hear my like pulse beat, " Not yet."
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Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 2:29 PM UTC
Waiting Game
I have learnt so much from books, I'm always attached to one. But as I read them I realise, they've learnt so much from the world. They've evolved with the world, in their language and punctuations, used our ways to narrate, stretched themselves from drama to horror, business and science fiction. They've changed their shape and form to keep her in their lure; short, graphic and sometimes still in volumes they've left us asking for more. I have learnt so much from books I'm always attached to one but as I read them I realise our lessons are not done. We are yet to pick up, the grace of ending chapters, the art of reading between the lines and tolerate them cliffhangers. We are yet to find our balance between our chosen characters delve deeper into the complexity of simplistic and unsaid words. Beyond all this I've learnt to keep bookmarks in those pages, those moments that made my story different from all others, I have learnt so much from books, I'm always attached to one, It is the one that I am currently writing, And I need to get to the final chapter I need to get to the part where I write She lived happily ever after.
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Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 5:00 AM UTC
Writing Books
You were my golden egg secret the glass slipper is buried deep, the spell I never said out loud the kiss that bested even sleep. You were the might of thunder the sword that slayed all evil the book that held old magic the love that could turn lethal. You were my Achilles heel, the resolve that held me strong, the arrow to my bow, bullet to my gun you were my silent soul song. You were an untold fairytale and I may have ripped the chapter that would bring you to life, this early demise has now wrecked my happily ever after.
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Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 2:40 PM UTC
Happily Ever After
It takes a different kind of courage to survive hope; to resist the call, of the bottomless pit, to refrain from the comfort of an always full glass, to stay put on the ledge when the wind nudges, and all things to come seem worse than what has passed. It takes a different kind of stupid to deny despair; to embrace the notion of affording second chances, to echo the chant that some things are meant to be, to take solace in knowing there are better possibilities, and keep telling your worst you haven't yet seen the best of me.
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Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 2:02 PM UTC
Different
I'm afraid of the light because I know what will follow, I look at corners and worry about what's hidden in hollows. I fear climbing up too far, for the fall down seems painful, the endless spirals, the familiar ground, just makes all things good more dreadful. I feel dizzy when I look up too long and I almost feel the earth give away, every turn that doesn't bring doom makes me anxious of the next day. I know I can't keep staring into the water waiting for the abyss to swallow it whole, but every strike of a match is a reminder, of how easily it can all go up in smoke. I wake up with trepidation, and a veiled sense of hope, telling myself I've avoided disaster telling my head, this is our new home.
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Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 1:39 PM UTC
Our New Home