Glamorous lightweight raindrops from the October sky keep
A star fell on the ground in the windy night
As if playing a game of chess / Still the world waits for the next dawn
Hark! / Busy work of Hands
but i can't. i cannot be bothered to find / meaning behind the faults in my father's eyes
Maa, you are an endless exhibition / of sweet-sour happiness
I heard they are changing the dictionary.
When the streetlights flicker, think of every doe-eyed child that the city swallows
A walkway through the crystal-clear lies
like a caterpillar cocooned into its shell undergoing metamorphosis—growing up sneaks up to you whether you want it or not
We have built a civilisation / of sky-high buildings, / of concrete cities, / of disconnected communities
go further than/ what the hills have seen/ through their ice pick scars
Welcome, weary traveler! To my humble abode. Come, come. I'll show you
You know those instances when we start off in the wide, turbulent currents of a river making its way downstream?
Grief is a lonely river, like a fisherman's song with an empty net
When there’s a lull in the air, I get the feeling that I’ve scraped the bottom of my fleshy insides.
Dust patterns have gathered around my landline phone, huddling around the maroon. my fingerprints take some dust off of it, and they rejoice.
You called me close in the moments of grace/ Veiling my delicate senses
You know how that day the wind brought out/ The crazy thoughts I had in me all the while.