Inside my head.

What do I think about? Is it love or my family?
Or is it a wonder trip and all-nighters?

I think of rainbow unicorns,
with soft wavy hair like my mother used to have,
and a horn that sharpens as a spiral,
much like my thoughts.
It has eyes like me father’s,
and crooked teeth that remind me,
of my sister.
It’s my family unicorn and it gallops in the sky.
I love them.
It’s not perfect, but it’s beautiful.
Also ironically, real.

I think of Christmas trees,
with a line of golden bells and colorful things
that hold within them,
stories of smiles and tears.
It is green and smells like a new day,
and looks exactly like what I drew it to be,
back in second grade.
I am a pirate and it’s my treasure box.
I love my memories.
It’s not perfect, but it has a star.
Also ironically, the star is from the sky.

I think of hearts on the corner of folded pages,
with red sketched inside of it,
a red that reminds me of my girlfriends stubbornness,
and how she blushes.
The paper is creased but the heart is still complete,
and it reminds me of a very old,
romanticized war.
It is my life’s ‘profile picture’ and I’ve liked it myself.
I love sketching.
It’s not artistic, but it is elegant.
Also ironically, three dimensional and inside my body.


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Instagram handle: @myspirals

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Related post : Palettes of life.

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A list of things about her.

This is probably the shortest poem I’ve written so far, but I really liked the concept and wanted to do it. I hope you enjoy this and share it!


Here is a list of things she smelled of:

Sunlight.
Beginnings.
Expensive perfume.
Hot chocolate.
Feelings.

and a list of things she looked like:

A crisp white shirt.
Sushi.
Sunset.
Christmas lights.
Love.

A list of things she reminded me of:

Empty vodka bottles.
Terraces and stars.
Neck kisses.
Smeared mascara.
The color of sunlight after it hits a bottle of whiskey.
Life.

A list of things she was:

A dragon-slayer.
A smile despite a tiring day.
A favorite song on repeat.
My auto-correct.
Human and alive.
Home..
Mine.


If you want to connect with me on Facebook, click here.
Instagram handle: @myspirals

Previous post: How to: Be poetry.
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Empty hearts.

So I tried something new in which I had to write the poetry in exactly a hundred words. Do read it and leave anything you’d like to say in the comments. Instagram handle: @myspirals


“So, what does it feel like to be empty?”

“Everyone is made of poetries,
and to have that inside of you
but no voice or walls for it to echo,
it can be hard to describe,
if not impossible.

It feels like a sinking Titanic,
that is too cold to realize,
that its life is etching away.
It feels like a long stretch of silence,
that screams out stories
and unheard rants.
It feels like a mirage
that you’ve somehow reached,
and you live the illusion.

I don’t know, really.
It feels like a nothing in a something.
Numb. Empty.”


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Previous post: Addictions and lies.
Related post: Hope and caution. 

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Stay.

Just read it till the end, please! ❤


Hey.
Goodbyes can be such a pain in the ass.
I’m not ready for it.
I cannot believe that
Your intoxicating eyes
Won’t be my morning sun anymore.
Your heavy breath
Won’t to be the first thing
You share with me anymore.
We won’t enjoy long walks,
And windy drives,
Crazy fights and funny sights anymore.

I’m not ready for it.
I cannot let go of you.
Memories won’t suffice.
I remember the time we first met.
You hugged me, and kinda danced too.
The first day we spent together,
Ice cream and chill,
Our favourite thing.
The first time we got wet
As it rained,
And you taught me how much fun it could be.
I’m drunk all the time,
You make me sober.

I am not ready for it.
I need you.
I need to hold your hands
As if they were a part of me.
I need you to brighten my days,
And lonely dark nights.
Eating won’t be fun anymore,
Without you around to steal my food.
Who will be my alarm clock,
The only one I never want to snooze?

I am not ready for it.
I’m drunk all the time,
You make me sober.
You’re not just a pet
Your family.
Don’t die on me.


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Related post : Snow.

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