You caress the skin on my cheeks lightly like an artist making strokes with his brush, and your fingers come away tainted with poetry. Tell me, how am I not beautiful? -Rupali Jeganathan | The Girl Lost In The Bookstore Follow me on Instagram..
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Stain.
Your name drips off every corner of this paper. The words cannot move an inch without bumping into you. This poem is stained with you. -Rupali Jeganathan | The Girl Lost In The Bookstore Follow me on Instagram and Tumblr.
Reasons to stay alive.
All these tiny skies
That open up
Inside you
When someone
Makes gold bloom
Out of your wrists
With their love.
That is a reason
To stay alive.
-Rupali Jeganathan | The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
I haven’t been posting much, I know. But I’ve been away taking care of my mental health. How have you all been?
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Darkness is beautiful.
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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How the world helped me heal-I
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
2 a.m.
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.
Loving me will not be easy.
Before you tell me those three words, let me warn you. Loving me is not going to be easy. Some days you are going to feel like you hold the entire universe in the palm of your hands, ecstatic and infinite. On those days, your … Continue reading Loving me will not be easy.
Letters to my mother.
i. On days When it is stormy On the inside of my skin, And I can hear The echoes of my heart Breaking Inside my ribcage, You gently pick up The pieces Of my broken dreams Where they have fallen On the floor From the … Continue reading Letters to my mother.
Rules of beauty.
“Let us break the rules Of beauty”, she whispered In my ear. Let us stop swathing our faces With anti-aging, And fairness creams That promise to make Our skin glow. Let us show the world That beauty hides In the wrinkles on your skin, And … Continue reading Rules of beauty.
Destruction.
The world sells destruction. And, I eat it for breakfast. My home. No, not a home. My house is too small to fit in all my anger and destruction. I see it leaking. Cutting the sunlight in two. I sold my soul to the devil … Continue reading Destruction.
Literature Is My Porn 