Too Far Gone: A Poem

My whispers won’t mean a thing When you didn’t even care to hear my cries. My eyes won’t awaken you Because you never looked beyond the lies. My heart won’t break yours Because it doesn’t even exist. And my life won’t change yours Because I couldn’t even change mine. – Rubani Kaur Photography Credit: Unknown

And Here, I Thought I Had Changed: A Story

Nobody’s coming. I yelled for hours but it’s just getting harder. My lungs are practically getting crushed under the weight of the wreckage. I am the best goddamn driver in the whole of New York. How could I mess this up? I remember talking to Donna once. ‘Listen, don’t get cocky.’ ‘Do I ever?’ I…

Goodnight…: A Poem

Look me in the eye And tell me you don’t love me. Come, kiss me goodnight And lead me to my dreams. I know you send subtle stares my way Because, sweetheart, I do that, too. So don’t neglect this anymore. Come, steer us away. The nightmares keep augmenting, There’s only so much I can…

We Would Survive: A Poem

For days I felt broken, Devastated even. A hopeless heart Accompanied by a sad soul. I was willing To give it all up, But then I saw that light People keep talking about. Only, it didn’t take my life, It nurtured it. And I’ll try not to lose touch With my tiny bit of sunshine….

Whispers: A Story

Her eyes glistened with the tears of… Sadness? Emptiness? He was unaware of the actual reason but to see such a beautiful woman in tears, he couldn’t bear that. He approached her like he always did, looked at her with a crooked smile like he always did, whispered her name like he always did. ‘Jenna.’…

SHE: A Poem

She wanted to scream it from the mountaintops In the hope that, at least, someone would hear her, At least, someone would care. But she couldn’t do that, She couldn’t make herself say it. Those words could never come out. The truth, The horrible, painful truth Which, if let out, would make them see her…

The Colorful Game of “Charades”

…Yes, we are all imperfect but maybe, we are also liars, playing a game of Charades every time we step out of our house, just so we can hide those imperfections.

My Body is a Cage…

…Maybe, we are trapped. Despite thinking and acting liberated, maybe we are just prisoners within our own skin. Maybe that’s what distinguishes us from a soaring bird or a roaring lion.

In Honor of Teachers’ Day…: A Poem

The golden days, they called them, But the real question was why. It wasn’t just because of the childish innocence But for the days of learning that passed us by. Twinkle, twinkle, oh, little star, I now wonder what you are Because today, I have the ability To look perceptively beyond those stars. A reluctance…

We Are Miracles

…the truth is we are just broken pieces scattered all across the globe. Our beautiful existence is just a lie we tell ourselves everyday.