Autumn closes its door, and winter arrives gently like a train slowly pulling into a station. I take out the book tucked under the mattress and sit by the window with a hot cup of tea, my legs snug inside the warm yellow blanket. It … Continue reading A Soft poem.
Tag: Poetry
If Music Were A Person.
I try to Recreate With words The poetry You write So gracefully With every shake Of your head And every tap Of your feet. Even your breath Sounds musical Every time I Feel it On my skin. And, I pray That for As long as … Continue reading If Music Were A Person.
If they leave you.
If they leave you with only their memories sticking to your skin, don’t try to cut it out in hopes that you might bleed art. (you won’t) If they leave you with only their names dangling off the corner of your mouth, don’t try to … Continue reading If they leave you.
Wait for the one.
Wait for the one who paints oceans on your back, whose waves crash against the walls of your heart and make it swell with emotions in colours you never dreamed of. The one who shreds his bones into poetry and hangs them like paintings on … Continue reading Wait for the one.
Written in the stars.
As our eyes lock, the moon inside my eyes will cause the ocean inside yours to ripple and tide. We will fall in love not for an eternity, not forever. We will fall in love for the time it takes to blink, we will fall … Continue reading Written in the stars.
For the lost and lonely.
You are abandoned places with run down houses hidden in a corner of a map, long forgotten, always overlooked. I will search every corner of the map till I find you and, when I do I will travel the world to find you and your … Continue reading For the lost and lonely.
Am I not beautiful?
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..
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.
Frozen.
Somewhere, in another world. on the corner of a lonely street, the clock is forever stuck at 11.11, and two lovers sit on the sidewalk stealing all the stars from the sky and cramming them inside their pockets. Somewhere, in another world, we still live, … Continue reading Frozen.
Break.
Break
this poem
in half.
And
all it will whisper
is your name.
-Rupali Jeganathan | The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
Follow me on Instagram.