Spend some time
With the night sky
Curled up beside you.
Let it drip secrets
In your ears
About how
Its darkness
Is its most
Breath-taking feature.
-Rupali Jeganathan | The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
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Spend some time
With the night sky
Curled up beside you.
Let it drip secrets
In your ears
About how
Its darkness
Is its most
Breath-taking feature.
-Rupali Jeganathan | The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
Follow me on Instagram.
The sun sinks its hands into my flesh, and creates a sky out of the sadness inside. – The half moon nestled behind my ear, whispers poetry in my ears, and I swallow it down. My mouth stinks of love. – I hear crumbling houses … Continue reading How the world helped me heal-I
There’s something About The dark hours Of 2 a.m That switches on The lanterns Along your spine And lets you see, Clearly, The words Gushing mutely Through your bones. -Rupali Jeganathan | The Girl Lost In The Bookstore Follow me on Instagram.
Nobody told me How hard this would be. Nobody told me That being methodical Won’t help me, Not this time. * That, charts and graphs On how long it takes To get over someone Would be as useful to me As a bicycle is to … Continue reading La douleur exquise.
I don’t want small talk. It gives me anxiety. Tell me about the time you slow danced to the beat of the wind howling in your ears. Tell me about the book you read that made you want to rip your heart out just so … Continue reading Small talk.
The odour
Of your departure
Lingers in the air
Your broken promises
Float in front
Of my eyes-
I reach out
And curl my fist
Around a few of them
And desperately shove it
Inside my mouth
But they dissolve
To nothingness
On my tongue
And I’m left
With the taste
Of your sweet lies.
*
Strength comes knocking
Once in a while
But the heartbreak
That always seems to
Linger just behind
The door,
Pushes it away-
I can hear the thud
As my strength
Hits the front porch
Muttering curses
Under its breath
For ever having tried.
*
I spend my days
Drinking loneliness
Like whiskey,
Singing haunted songs
To the sky,
Eating poetry for lunch-
For me, now,
Sunday mornings
Will always smell
Like your absence.
-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
This poem was selected and published by The Anonymous Writer on their website. You can read it by clicking here.
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I see poetry
Everywhere I go-
In your lonely eyes
And
The haunted songs
The sad trees
In your garden
Sing.
You can’t
Marry loneliness
And wonder why
Happiness won’t fall
In love with you.
-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
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