She is nothing.

She is nothing.Nothing but a window to your relatability,‘cause you knowshe leaves a part of herself,in your jacket’s pocketso you…

Continue Reading →

Some dreams

Dreams doesn’t have to resideup in the clouds.It could be in smiles or pictures,in tinkling of wind chimes, or guffawing…

Continue Reading →

“There’s always some madness in Love”

And when the great souls die,they die of diminishing prideand a meek voice after being unheard for years.They die of…

Continue Reading →

Language of love

Language of love is so loud.But you are fashioned to hear only words.

Continue Reading →

Sins of not writing

The blank pages are my sin.Bookshelves my cemeteryand poetry, the way I die.

Continue Reading →

When I’m older

I sit down to carve the most intricate lines my paper had ever felt. I follow and follow the long…

Continue Reading →

Will talk

Will talkWhen your mirror will hug the dusty fog,when the grief will not set with the Sun.when your moustache be…

Continue Reading →

Storms

You know how the storm comes and shakes you up without touching? Your words do the same.

Continue Reading →

Paper Hearts

Not gonna lie,I find you so unattractive. When your mind-bending skillsof origami turn my apprehensionsinto those little things that fly…

Continue Reading →

I write

I write. I write because nothing else makes sense to me. I write because everything I see speaks volume to…

Continue Reading →