blue eyes
green hair
pink shoes
red pants
orange shirt
white tie
He was not what you would call simple.
He in his way was colours all around.
©anothergirlwithfantasies

It was Friday, the 13th.
I was expecting the darkness looming
around me for years to capture me,
but what happened was not what imagined.
Swinging his arms, wearing a rainbow
hoodie, looking like a ******,
he walked past me, intriguing me.
Plenty of people were on that road, but he captures my eye.
Friday, the 13th was meant to be for darkness,
but after two years, waiting for him on the same road,
I found a rainbow for my unicorn
and it got pretty ecstatic for me.


©anothergirlwithfantasies

Have you ever eaten a chocolate dipped in a tub of spices !
It tastes sweet at first, but then you realise it’s just not what you thought it was. It burned and it hurt.
It bruised my heart.
That’s how I felt when my boyfriend ****** me thrice and not once did it happen with my permission.
And we have been going out for one year and four months.
I never realised those signs, the forced kissing, the changing of topics to always a *** conversation.
Him always trying to touch me.
But that day, he lost his patience which was saving me till now.
I kicked at his *****.
I kicked his arms away.
But he was too strong.
His hold on me was not letting me even move myself. Kicking took too much.
And the irony was, his body used to be my temple.
When he used to take me in his hold, I used to squeak from the excitement of it all.
I used to wet my lips on seeing his bulging muscles.
But now, his arms around me, holding me hostage, feels like a suffocating experience.
I wanted to get away from him, but I was numb.
I was frozen all away, not with fear, but for feeling nothing.
After a few minutes of kicking, all I feel is the emptiness.
His breaths on my neck.
The stench of his sweat disturbs me, yet I am silent.
And after he ***** me, he looks at me like an animal looking at his food and says, “I’ll be back.”
Those three words, he uttered were the scariest of all.
The thought of him ******* me over was disgusting, but the thought of him coming back and ******* me again scared me out of my wits.
So, like every other harassed woman, I am running away, from him, from truth.
Cause after all this, I have not just lost faith, or myself, but I have lost hope, the one thing, which would have kept me running. ©anothergirlwithfantasies

Your innocence
is wrapped up
in the blanket of
maturity.
Your kiddish behaviour
is embedded
in a cocoon of
society
and it’s
measures.
Your happiness
is locked away
by yourself
in a tin box
whose key
is lost forever.

©anothergirlwithfantasies

“It is stuck at 5 o’clock”
The first time I went
to the hill
to witness the rise
of that yellow and red thing
in the sky.
Vibrant it was.
And when the tears came,
I can’t say.
It was peaceful.
Knowing that I was a witness
to such a beauty
to such a phenomenon of nature
was in itself too much.
And that’s when I noticed
that my watch is stuck
on 5 o’clock.
Maybe it wanted to
capture that serene moment
in itself forever.
And it’s been 7 years when I went there.
I never went back
because once was too overwhelming
and that is why I never corrected my watch
and I carry it around with me
all the time
cause it’s a reminder
that whenever something too bad will happen
there is a place I can go
to run away
from the demons.

©anothergirlwithfantasies

There was a time when you used to be my deity
Your feet were my home
Your satisfaction was my ******.

There is this time now when your prayers start with mine
My home is your house
My ****** is your duty.

©anothergirlwithfantasies

She knew what she was getting into, when
she called him on a date. Something about
him was pathetically dangerous, yet she
got attracted by his glamour. She met him,
danced along with him, swaying her lips
from left to right, brushing her hair over
his face, feeling him all over, yet she felt
***** with him. She felt some coarse vibes
coming from him, yet she surrendered
herself intimately. He felt her all over,
yanking her skirt, pulling her towards him.
It was getting kinda blurry when the clock
turned twelve and the alcohol started
touching her nerves. Kissing her lips,
whispering ***** deeds in her ears, she’s
listening yet without any emotions. She’s
losing herself, particularly to feel no pain,
but she doesn’t know that nothing is what
she will gain.

Now the other aspect of story, where I
come from behind and jolt him towards the
wall, breaking his spine. How dare he
touched my girl, she is silly, I know, but
she’s all I have. She pushes me to save
him, bending down to check his bruise. But  
I know better about her heart, her feelings
for me at the moment are bitter, but she’s
true at heart. I think her love is stored in a
vial, long slender and difficult to pull out,
but my friends say I am in denial. Hey lord,
help me ! Lead me to a way with
tranquility.

©anothergirlwithfantasies

I am pieces of my poetry
and the stories I read.
Stitched together by
my favourite song’s lyrics.
And I glued together
by our midnight memories
and late night conversations.

And I need you to somehow know
that I am not okay
with pretending
that I am okay, anymore.

Oh God, I would love for you to come
and gather all my tattered pieces
and make me whole,
again.

©anothergirlwithfantasies

“Maybe you are just a beautiful fantasy.
Kiss me before you evaporate
and disappear forever.”

He tilted my chin. Hot tingles shot
through my body, as his tongue probed
my mouth.

He tangled his hands in my already
messy hair, and we twisted into
our fiery kisses.

©anothergirlwithfantasies

21 was his age when we first met
21 was the date when we sat back but our lips met
21 was his birthday date, when I brought him a bundle of chocolates
21 was his jersey number
21 was his flat number
21 was his phone number’s middle digits
21 was his lucky number

21 was my age when he left me broken
21 was the date when I saw him uniting his lips with my bestfriend
21 was the time when I cried of losing two most important people in my life
21 was the number of times I cried for him
21 was the day of the month when he turned me down in public rudely
21 was the number of things he returned to me
21 was my unlucky number

©anothergirlwithfantasies

Sometimes the world gives you no choice.
You must be a devil and pretend to be
*******
or else life will crumble you into tiny pieces.
You will realise that you are
being destroyed,
but you wouldn’t be to do anything.
You will be paralysed.
A step further will be a huge accomplishment for you.

Sometimes the world gives you no other option
than to befriend the devil and
take notes from him.

©anothergirlwithfantasies

Was it easy
for you to forget
those memories of us
which we made
under the silk sheets
on the rumpled bed of yours.

Was it comforting
for you to find love
and warmth
which was my giving,
in someone else’s arms.

Was it happening
to sneak out at night
leaving your wife
on the same bed
you ****** her all night
sleeping and dreaming
about the future.


©anothergirlwithfantasies

you melted away
like the wax from a candle
because you were too afraid
and unwilling
to break my walls
and see behind them.
You got scared
just by one glimpse
of the inner me,
the dark me
and you ran away.
When I kissed you
you lips felt warm
and home-like,
they welcomes me
in your mouth
but you never did.
Your body could have been
the temple I worship in
and you could have been
the person who breaks
my jail bars and see the secret inside,
but you were ****-less,
you were cowardly
as to finding in me
a person you no longer
wish to see in you.
-anothergirlwithfantasies
— — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Some people have a bad side, and if someone doesn’t accept this, they need to. Because embracing yourself wholly will lead you to paths of righteousness and seriously, people need to stop being afraid of the dark, it’s as good as light, sometimes more.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

your path was different than mine
our roads were never meant to collide.
but you stepped up
and joined me.
that’s when I knew
a story is brewing
and
a cupid is smiling.

©anothergirlwithfantasies