Existing like a mere remnant, I find myself oozing and dripping onto the vast, arid expanse of my aching heart—a desert strewn with the jagged edges of memories. Each pulse of pain ricochets within me, fleeting visages of you dancing like mirages in the distance. I am rendered deaf as I navigate through this emotional terrain, yearning to grasp the fragile thread that once connected us so intimately.

My future now intertwines with the endless skein of the past, binding me inextricably to moments long gone. The present, smeared and tainted, becomes a canvas painted with the colors of divine yet agonizing grace—my life, a tapestry woven from threads of suffering and beauty.

What is it like to draw in the very air that sustains me? My mere existence poses a relentless challenge, pulling me toward a cold numbness, steeped in an ineffable foundation that disrupts the essence of being alive—a life reduced to mere survival.

Woke up to a languorous day. Brazenly taking a peek inside of me-a rapturous beaten soul-a hollow inwardness. Cunningly smeared me with beguiling fallacies. Pangs of those wry stillness-teases me, ruffles me with progressing anger.

Aghast, oh my dear self.Do you still think of instilling me with your caustic feelings?

 Do you still feel to infuse me with your unadulterated loathe? 

Please let me know – I am ready to disintegrate myself- I am dying to diverge from my morality and beliefs, just for you.I would gladly surrender myself and return back to my old harlot-my own melancholy. In my deep recess – I can still get lost to find myself again.Weaving a narration- a false blanket of comforting words to ease me down with my own dark nectar of falsified essences.

Roop

 

Pity!

1000 times- more clamorous dismay

fooled, blind sided-congratulated deafened to my state of mind

Progress unborn-pity righteous

Cerebral dead-fragmented days

Crafted bones- weaved up lies

I relinquish this bracketed thoughtless life

I motherfucking refuse to turn the stones

Phasing out-  outsider to finish first

Sick,nauseated by your face

Face off- suffered to your good words

life art

Each page of life carries a weight- bulldozing the way you might think you know it all but it just the skim. Words sharp like katana and exuding meaning as caustic as freshly prepared lye. I pumped in completely –without a sigh! Cluttered words ravaged into a more vivid & non meaningful fable- my poor heart just lie afloat; merely reflecting to find meaning to the dark abyss of existence. I am hollow- my own voice echoes down; ruffling the wild grown leaves to the crevices of my soul, brewed by my venom.

My senses plays dirty tricks with my head- sometimes play flirtatiously with the deep bond of neat spirit or sometimes makin` a buzz as it pleases without a word with my clouded head. Substance ,debauchery seems like the cover art of my life book-dopey eyes, stingy soul ah!.  The doors of existence have been whored by people with no interest in my well being-just forked tongued mouth spewing shits. With dim lights from heart, I welcome you all- come and drafted a shitty tale of yours to my life. Just an open book-where my appendixes pages fucks with my index; so in tandem to a non-coherent behavior- insubordination; just chunks of reprise- beautified with your black words. People- do tread on, just gawking my art and touching the pages- never understood the earth which natured my hate for this society. Just breathe- I know my who fits in- who is out- oddly body shapes-weighing my pages more; just mere determination to use a pen to write till the last page.

craft me a new day

Today is one of those days- which just slipped away.
i dint try hard or harder - to make anything countable
just felt like a weary garland- after a funeral ceremony
for a moment-it seemed the clocks too rested- not in the moment but  after hours disposed
to me I am just thinking- what i am realist about
who i am -where i need to go- what i need to know
the very essence of `this moment` has gone.
i now feel ashamed- that i could not  stir my inner-to churn out something beautiful.
just being here- like each pores of my body- infused with ethereal morbidness. i felt dead-more dead than a dead person.
i simply remember- it was dawn ;a while ago- and now the dusk dusted my sense
i woke up to the melancholy of the weary winter wind and now wrapped with disgust
in my warmth of whiskey
the night wings aloft and conjure with my darkened heart- the nebulous sense of being
torpid - as intoxicated i can be- i would
Senses- makes no sense to me- simply felt like a teeny weeny flame- flickering and struggling against a frost wind that is coming out of soul

Weighed down with the porosity
Unpolished, with lorn love lust
Morning, battered up; speaks the ruffled hair
Smell of headscarves; tongue flagged with lovers love
Arms of sun rays, uplift the dreams; like every other day
Gaiety of nibbling senselessness
Morning walls, smell of coffee beans
Smidgen loftiness ; tastes ambrosial
Paper cups disposed; like a waste
Lets not talk about last night
Char-coaled night, have registered it
Your piece, and my piece
Circling around the rim of moon; so monochrome
I drank your icy breath, as deep silence billowed
My heart  lopsided and smiled
Lets assume; nameless raven too flew to nebulous zone
This morning;
Multi color nameless bird, populates the orange tinged hammock sky; fly and mocks
A palpable skin; wispy
Paints the skin, with water color
Every night, a different canvas; a different stroke
Ebbing aches of heat, obvious and facile
Lumpen heart, just long sappy tone

                                                      - roop

My eyes, floats in the deep azure ocean

See the far offshore, glances touching and receding with each blink

I could sense, a smell of water

Saline, taste more like your love

The echoes, of my heart announces loud

Sentiments glared, reserved hands to muffle anymore swirls

Each thought, each memory, handpicked; blackened, smeared and tossed to the basket

Bereft, solaced in my melancholy hammock

Now pain, scratches the fabric, torn down to rags

I merely touch the threads and draw in horizontal

Resilience witnessed, shutters on and on

rains

Write now

woman

I was child; innocent
You will be beautiful women day,
my mother said, i believed
Preparing this skeletal,so long
So untrue,maligned
at 16, i realized
when his beetle stained ,smelly teeth
dig in and bite my unsprouted nipple, as a pree
in that tinsel dress, i covered my girlhood last
he reared me, till my threshold
I guessed, that`s what womanhood is
i could feel
body moisture, turning to flakes
vaginal cyst solidifying
aftertaste inured
....
his mother called as "fish oil"
i am woman, not a fish
in this slime, i have learned to swim, though
i smell like a fish, true
i integrate, my days, rice-fish, that`s what your husband like
dawn to dusk;
utensils, wood, among other
on bed, plough ed, beaten
just i am a female
you made me a woman, acquiesced