Travel bird.

Instagram handle: @myspirals


Go to places,
Find mountains that remind you of people,
And seas that make you forget everything.
Discover old streets that whisper stories,
and broken buildings that look like broken bones.
Sleep out the day, learn to love the dark.
Sleep out the night, learn to love the light.
Close your eyes and feel the wind,
and rustle like a tree under the burning sun.
Giggle under the stars,
and among the ruins,
Just like the people who lived there
A long time ago,
probably did.
Paint your passports,
and cut in your bucket list,
instead of your wrists.


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Previous post: Sober.
Related post: It’s okay.

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 ∞

Sober.

Give me prompts in the comments section below! Enjoy reading. Instagram handle: @myspirals


Despite being six vodka shots down,
I was sober as I called you.
It isn’t possible to drunk-dial you,
Because you are like a good night’s sleep.
Just the thought of you slows down my heart-beat,
and makes me feel at home.
I don’t need to be drunk around you,
as I tell you everything anyway.
I’m not afraid of blabbering on and on,
Like a tape on repeat,
Because you’ve said that I am your favorite song.
I do everything with you,
that I wouldn’t even dream of, unless drunk.
You are a glass of water,
for every shot that I have.
You’re salt and lime,
and my poetry’s rhyme.
If I am so alive with you,
How can liquor make drunk
as I call you?


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

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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. 

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 ∞

 

 

Wake up call.

I’ve made the official Instagram handle for this page (@myspirals). Do follow and stay tuned. (If you’ve written and posted something that you want me to read, use the hashtag #ourspirals)


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.

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 ∞

Whisky Words: The End

The writing project has come to an end.

So, about a month and a half ago, I decided to start a project that will help fellow bloggers or my readers in general to let their compositions be read. I called it The Whiskey Words, for that’s what words are like. Whiskey. It burns your throat, and makes you forget your pain.

The response to the project has been over-whelming. To be honest, I did not expect more than five entries for the project, but could I be more wrong? (Chandler: hehe)

The amount of entries I received was both a boon and a bane. The bane being that it became tougher for me to choose between the entries. But I did, and here we are. The following are the three best entries according to me, in this very order:

The winner: The winner of the writing project is Anchal Rani (Whiskey Words: Project 3). I tried to contact Kathy Gardner (Whisky Words: Project 11) but failed to get her address as response to my mail. So, I’ve decided to give the Giveaway to the second best. Congratulations, Anchal!

March was truly a wonderful month. Thank you so much. Leave a comment below if you liked the Whiskey Words, and also if you’d like more of such projects in the future. Also, all suggestions for my blog are welcome and you can mail them to me at: utsavraj3@gmail.com

Thank you again for sticking around. April is here and so am I. Let’s have another awesome month. We are going back to my compositions. Do share my blog with your friends if you like it, it’ll be a great help. Also, criticism is always welcome and appreciated.

Adios!