Wake up call.

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More often than not,
I’ve slept my problems away.
My problems have been
Like a beast in the dungeon,
Like a dragon in the caves
of the tall golden mountains
that echoes like my mind.
I’ve used sleep as a defense mechanism,
and defeated such dragons,
over and over in my dreams.
My problems have been
Like a task for me,
Like a big step that I have to take,
in order to survive,
amidst the world of flames and cuts.
I’ve used sleep to procrastinate,
and thought everything through.
Used the veil of a perfectionist,
to cover my hopes in a belief of awakening.
My problems have been
Like a clock that is ticking away.
I’ve used sleep as my fingers,
and removed the cell.

Today,
I’ve decided to wake up.


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Related post 1 : Palettes of life.
Related post 2 : It’s okay.

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Whisky Words: Project (9)

This is Submission NINE of The Whiskey Words. The Whiskey Words is a writing project (and a giveaway), and if you’d like to participate, here are the rules.


Illumine the stars

Hers
Is a restless soul in the black abyss of a beautiful world.
A world where heartbeats are numb in the crowds of screaming rivals
Her soul, a misfit for rhyme and reason
Because the pictures speak to it.
Her eyes search a different truth
Because the phrases mean nothing to them
Her mind seeks rational meaning
Because the sophistication means eternity to it.
Her soul longs an unknown silence.
So when the night sky kisses the sea,
She embarks upon a journey,
With the stars on her back.
One by one,
She illumines the stars,
makes her mark in the shape of a constellation,
a perpetual path,
leading to a shooting star.

– Himna Khan (blog)

Whisky Words: Project (1)

The writing project starts today! This is Submission ONE of The Whiskey Words. The Whiskey Words is a writing project (and a giveaway), and if you’d like to participate, here are the rules.


 

Hush

The voices inside of me tell me I don’t matter. In all my heart and all my stupid mind, I know they are veracious. Every time someone left me, they added another voice inside of me. Will these voices ever be hushed?

  1. He was this guy I once knew, with a fair heart. He promised me his fair heart was mine to keep. I guess that wasn’t true. Every time that I cared about him it was assumed by him that I, I the one who loved him the most, had a selfish reason behind it. I do not know what is yet to come to me. All I know is that I wanted him to tell our kids how he met their mother.
    After all this, after all the sour truth, I know that this will still hurt me, every time I think of it, it’ll break me into another piece. I don’t know what my sin was. I assume maybe it was caring way too much.
  2. She made me lay beside her, and she left me as she assumed that I had slept. In my head, when I ruminate the same old memory, I still shriek and shiver and cry out to stop her. I was a kid back then, I was too scared to tell mom that I hadn’t fallen asleep yet.
    They saw a spark in my eyes. In reality, it was just a tear drop I was holding onto. A tear that might escape my eyes as I blinked as another voice yelled at me, and made me realize that I don’t matter.
  3. At night, when he held me, I knew I was his princess. Daddy’s little princess. It sure was annoying sometimes, sometimes suffocating, but today, I want to be suffocated. I remember, when we listened to songs, he’d make the lyrics about me. But I was a kid back then. Now that I listen to those songs, I see the light showing me that those were just the lyrics all along.

I know that this pain will last a lifetime and I know that I have committed the seven sins. I am trying to build a dyke around my heart, protecting it from the waves of these evil voices, from their screams and from all the shattered dreams.

The voices inside me tell that I don’t matter. In all my heart and all my stupid mind, I know that they are veracious. Every time they left me, they added another voice inside of me. Will these voices ever be hushed?

– Tanisha Hooda

Bare waists and midriffs.

I don’t know why every time his fingers trail my bare waist, I feel much more than just the shiver of intimacy run up my spine.

I try to wander the corridors of my mind to find out why he feels much more than just someone I make out with.

I cannot help but notice that it’s much more than just his hair that I grab onto now. I often envelop his hands so tightly with mine.

I wake up late into the nights and crave for his lips to be pressed against my neck, and I fall asleep with my hands wrapped around the pillow as if it were him.

I repeatedly catch myself thinking about him as I tie my hair back into the ponytail that he obsesses over.

Whenever he picks me up, and looks me in the eye, I don’t look at his lips while biting mine anymore. Instead, I kiss his nose and his chest, and feel his heart beating against my lips. I think of his smile as his kisses just grazes my midriff.

Why do I get all excited and tensed as he softly tucks my hair behind my ear?

I don’t know.


If you want to connect with me on Instagram, click here. (If you’ve written and posted something that you want me to read, use the hashtag #ourspirals)
If you want to connect with me on Facebook, click here.

Previous post : Palettes of life.
Related post : Kisses and cravings.

Friends, if you like reading my work, do share it with your friends (on whatever social media you deem appropriate). It would be amazing to have more people reading my compositions. Please help my infinity grow bigger ∞