Breathing-

Breathing-

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I can breathe,
Almost;
The words
Stuck in my throat,
Flow from the tips,
Of my fingers and I
Can breathe-

The thoughts,
Forming word salad
In my Brain
Are settling,
Above the dark Mist,
Surrounding me, and I
Can breathe-

The tears,
Constantly gracing,
The skin
On my cheeks,
Have resorted
To ooze,
In the form of oxygen,
A prayer,
From my lips and I
Can
breathe-
Pray,
Wish…
This momentt, lasts 
For eternity.


I’ve got news! No I’m not writing a book. But, I just got myself a Facebook page. It’s called words of a random and i’ld really appreciate it, if you’d check it out and like and share as well. It’s going to be a full-on poetry and prose page with full length poems inserted into an image. Looking forward to connecting with y’all. Here’s the link: words of a random

Rock bottom-

Rock bottom-

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It is a horrible place
To be, where the ground,
Has rubbed against your bare
Body for so long, it becomes-
Normal? Being covered in
Dirt.

It is a horrible place
To dwell in, when darkness
Lasts more than its allotted 12
Hours, and the rays of light
Shining through becomes
The abnormal. Hope is not
Normal?

It is a horrible place
To live, surrounded by
Silence, embraced by its
Cunning arms and the sound
Of another soul, reaching out
Becomes noise. Friends become
Nuisance?

It is a horrible place
To be, where all that is wrong
Seem right, and all that is light
Appears distorted.
When an abyss, becomes
Home?
It is a horrible place
To be- alone.

Unbroken-

Unbroken-

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You held me,
But I am still standing,
You tied me,
But I’m still walking,
You drowned me,
But I breathe under water,
You can break me,
But my pieces would suffice me.

You whisper-
When darkness surrounds me,
Like a coward,
Hiding whilst there’s lighting.
You create-
Illusions around me,
Unaware-
My Lord’s, all the light I need.

You can hold me,
But I’ll still be standing,
You can break me,
My pieces would suffice me.

Flash Fiction: Match-Making miss

Flash Fiction: Match-Making miss

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Girl! You’ve got some serious screws lose.”
“He was such a fine specimen.”
“You know you’re making a mistake right.”
“She sure is! What were you thinking, saying no to him.”

Layla stared blankly, hoping her evident disinterest in their monologues would get them to stop talking; it wasn’t working.

Are you even listening to what we’re saying”,
“We’re trying to help you out here, you know”.

Layla gave a loud sigh, then turned to face them,
Why“, she said.
They stared at her, lack of understanding, evident on their faces.
“Did it occur to you, to ask me why I said no to him?”
Silence filled the room. She got up and smiled wearily,
That’s what I thought.”

Layla pointed through the window at the narrow steep pathway, guarded by green shrubs on all sides, which led to up to the hill.

That’s where I’ll be when you’re all done,” she added before heading out. Their murmurs of “you’re not getting any younger you know,” following her out the door. 


Word count: 171 words.  This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writer’s photo prompt challenge, hosted by Priceless Joy, where each week we are provided a picture and are to write a 75-175 word story inspired by it.  Thank you very much for this week’s photo @JS Brand.

 

I hold within me-

I hold within me-

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I am-
All made up of,
the life I’ve left;
Every cell within me,
Tainted by the touch,
Of love,
Of loss,
Of words,
All past;
I thrive on the energy
Of things come,
Now gone.

It rests,
Within my shadow,
A reflection of the girl,
Not the one I was born as,
But the girl I’d grown into,
(Body and soul);
I hold within my shadow,
A past- I cannot,
Bury.

It is-
Right alongside me,
When the sun
Graces the sky,
Till the moon tires out,
Of the darkness,
It resides with me-
My past.

It is with me,
But it is not me,
It made me,
But I am not it.
I carry it,
It doesn’t carry me,
I am made of my past,
It doesn’t control me,
I hold it,
For, It was once
a part of-
Me.

The boy by the sea-

The boy by the sea-

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His talk was as loud as,
His silence while crying;
He’d mastered the art of,
Concealing his downfalls;
When the moon graced
The sky,
You’d find him,
Under the starlight.

His smile was as bright as,
The darkness he kept hidden;
And no one would reach out,
None knew he needed healing;
When the sky turned a shade,
He could live without concealment,
You’d find him by the bank,
Alone with his reflection.

When you sight him,
By the sea,
In reply to, “how you’re feeling”.
He’d smile,
Praise his lord and add,
“I cannot count my blessings”.

In spite of the darkness,
In spite of his heart bleeding,
It could have been worse,
Is the mantra he keeps repeating.
His talk was as loud as,
His silence while crying,
His strength is reflected,
In his hope to keep on living.


P.S what had happened was, my days got mixed up yesterday. I thought it was Wednesday already when it was actually Tuesday (yes, I am that eager for the weekend to come) and hence, I accidentally posted the writers poem Wednesday, yesterday instead of today.

Writer’s Quote: Carmen Giménez Smith

Writer’s Quote: Carmen Giménez Smith

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Welcome to another writer’s quote/poem Wednesday, where I share some of my favourite poems written by other authors. Today’s featured poem is one I came across only recently, and I haven’t been able to stop reading it. My heart bleeds at it’s verses. The poem is titled bleeding heart by Carmen Giménez Smith, and as I couldn’t stop at just one poem, I can safely say she is one amazing poet.

The poem, bleeding heart, talks about an overly sympathetic individual who feels so much, in fact too much. The poem begins as a metaphor- “my heart is bleeding”, then goes on to describe all the things which make the character feel so much; bleed so much. The suffocating effect of feeling too much can be felt in the line where the writer says, “it becomes the cork of me and I choke on it.”

She goes on to further explain her predicament by referencing, she bleeds so much, sometimes, she is a raisin (a dried fruit). And then immediately afterwards, she lists some more things which make her bleed, Indicating, as long as there is a sympathetic situation, she would always feel, bleed.

I love this poem in particular because it reminds me of the current situation we are living in, so much atrocities going on in different parts of the world, and my heart bleeds for them. It bleeds for the animals being treated cruelly for no fault of theirs, the children getting displaced, the women and men oppressed and abused- my heart bleeds.

Bleeding Heart BY Carmen Giménez Smith 

My heart is bleeding. It bleeds upward and fills
my mouth up with salt. It bleeds because of a city in ruins,
the chair still warm from sister’s body,
because it will all be irreproducible. My heart
bleeds because of baby bear not finding mama bear and it bleeds
to the tips of my fingers like I painted my nails Crimson.
Sometimes my heart bleeds so much I am a raisin.
It bleeds until I am a quivering ragged clot, bleeds at the ending
with the heroine and her sunken cancer eyes, at the ending
with the plaintive flute over smoke-choked killing fields. I’m bleeding
a river of blood right now and it’s wearing a culvert in me for the blood. My heart
rises up in me, becomes the cork of me and I choke on it. I am bleeding
for you and for me and for the tiny babies and the IED-blown
leg. It bleeds because I’m made that way, all filled up with blood,
my sloppy heart a sponge filled with blood to squeeze onto
any circumstance. Because it is mine, it will always bleed.
My heart bled today. It bled onto the streets
and the steps of city hall. It bled in the pizza parlor with the useless jukebox.
I’ve got so much blood to give inside and outside of any milieu.
Even for a bad zoning decision, I’ll bleed so much you’ll be bleeding,
all of us bleeding in and out like it’s breathing,
or kissing, and because it is righteous and terrible and red.

P.s What makes your heart bleed? 

Past the darkness-

Past the darkness-

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Your world was full of darkness,
So I handed you a rope,
To lead you down a pathway,
To the light my soul calls home.

But darkness had convinced you,
It’s warmth was all you need,
The light would add to you nothing,
But unnecessary heat.

Your world was full of darkness,
So I handed you some words,
To keep you company as,
A reminder you’re not alone.

But darkness had convinced you,
It was all the friend you need,
So you bundled up the pages,
Putting a torch to our friendship.

Your world- so full of darkness,
And it hurts you cannot see,
The wings ingrown within you,
You’ve had all you needed to flee.

If only you could- look past the darkness,
For a moment… you will see.
Until then my rope’s still hanging,
To pull you down, whenever you need.

Safe haven-

Safe haven-

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If you are a lover of rainbows,
A dreamer when the sun is about,
A reader whilst the crowd is gathering,
For worldly pleasures and fun.

A foodie when your mind is spinning,
A sleeper whilst the shadow is around,
A prayer unknots from your tongue on,
the days when the hours seem long.

If you know you are normal,
But have been called weird,
If you are a dreamer,
But have been named belle,
If you are religious,
But have been called prude,
If you love the written,
But have been called nerd.

Welcome to my world,
Of papers and words,
A safe haven for dreamers,
With no need to conform.