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Showing posts from August, 2025

Poetry is inserting line breaks wherever you want

Poetry is writing “she’s a glacier of gorgeousness” without cringing Poetry is allowing yourself to not rhyme all the time Poetry is backspace, backspace, backspace Poetry is telling yourself it’s okay Poetry is “did I write that?” [awestruck] and Poetry is “did I write that ?” [derogatory] Poetry is pausing at this point; and contemplating abandonment  Poetry is mundanity draped in fancy words concealing languor; Poetry is sentences a dorned by a lliterations Poetry is love, anger, pain, joy Poetry is cliche Poetry is carelessly tied strands of hair Poetry is bite marks on the tip of the pen Poetry is using the word ‘strands’ simply because of its visual imagery value (and hence exceeding word limit) Poetry is romanticising everything  Poetry is pausing again at this point; and contemplating deletion Poetry is learning to embrace the mess Poetry is falling in love with the process Poetry is, on many levels, “beautifulness” Poetry is forgetting a perfect rhyme in half a minu...

After My Coffee Turned Cold

Read the prequel here : Before My Coffee Turns Cold I watched the sky part ways with the final rays of sunlight I noticed the golden hues quietly recede into twilight I heard the cacophony ebb away into the eerily tranquil night I discovered there was life after my coffee turned cold. I witnessed the world become more home, when I left my heart ajar I left pieces of myself in acts of kindness, and they travelled wide and afar I sat with the waves in silence till they washed over my hidden scars I tasted more of life, after my coffee turned cold. I lived, and in so doing, I found myself desiring to live more  I lost myself time and again, and found many surprises in store I cried till my eyes hurt, I laughed till my sides felt sore I pressed my cup to my cheeks, and it soothed, even after my coffee turned cold. I hurt, I screamed, I cried; I forgave, I walked away I healed, I learned to smile; I hurt again when life came in the way I wiped up the drops I’d spilled, and gathered the ...