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.
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.
Break
this poem
in half.
And
all it will whisper
is your name.
-Rupali Jeganathan | The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
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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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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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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
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.
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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Literature Is My Porn 