HEy Bestie! I Was On Ur Taglist With My Other Account But Ill Be Deactivating That One So I Was Wondering

In a million pieces i fell-

The untoward had happened;

none heard my bones cracked,

none felt the silence it left me with.

The earth beneath me wasn’t holy or fertile.

It was cemented, though crooked, unzipping.

The sky turned on me,

enclosing my body, following my soul-

I didn’t turn my head in, it was held straight

but another did not shield my body, I was left alone.

Thus, the realisation flickered my shattered soul:

The fate of being alive

didn’t help the survival,

didn’t care for salvation.

- @akratiisalive

@/akratiisalive

(taglist under the cut!)

@king-of-knives @a-moonlit-poet @bedfordhealyx @it-is-what-it-it-iss @kajukatliontop @nochampagneonlyproblems @fawadkhangf @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad @cherryblossom @parihumay @jules-hazard @eveesque @wigilda @theazurepoet @ghostof @catguinstudies@a-smart-dumbass @anarchist-therapist @petulanceinaprettyflower @intoxicatednits @bellaisthebeast @rustyswingset

transcript and tag list under the cut! (ask to be added):

i am being in one but many forms

remember when it was about screaming once in two months? when i was not a big girl but my father was still old? when all the cheap porcelain was the centre of attention in our house? &, when there were no dolls but i wasn’t allowed to cross the road on my own?// i. the growing is like a venus flytrap: two-fold./ evil, like a fortnight before spring./ spring, like summer’s step-child./ when i remember/ my 8 years old shadow: i was becoming./ now, at 16, i want to be seen.// ii. the mirroring of another’s solitude was a/ foot less deep when i handed them my chocolate. now, i am making bread but to never consume. now, i don’t measure sugar/ or hear the alarm./ if it weren’t for the cries for 8 pm tv shows,/ i’d still be a little more tenuous./ i think a girl starts rotting when/ she feels blood in her body.// iii. not to say that i can lie today, but/ there was not much to lie about back then./ i broke a glass./ but another hand searched for the shards too./ and also! i never had to lie!/ my brother announced my mishaps/ before my mother even approached me.// iv. today, i do not lie on the ground/ but rush to the washroom to sit and stare./ i feel content when i grit my teeth/ & i don’t feel them breaking/ because,/ i always closed my mouth when i peed./ oh, don’t you know? my mother said/ it’s bad for your teeth when you let them be/ in the restroom. it weakens them./ “as if teeth are something that could be/ weaken! as if teeth have beards!”// v. to write nothing everyday is not a logic/ i want to normalise. but the thing is,/ it starts to feel ecstatic/ when i see a mirror & i stand to stare./ another being. same as me./ i exist,/ two fold: skin and bones./ tenuous: a rope tied to throat./ i exist./ i didn’t rot, i exist.

taglist: @ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @rottensummerlove @it-is-what-it-it-iss @kajukatliontop @nochampagneonlyproblems @champagnesrush @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad @ch3rryblo55oms @parihumay @jules-hazard @eveesque @wigilda @theazurepoet @star-dust-2317 @catguin-the-kitty-cat @a-smart-dumbass( still not working:((? )

One poem that’s all i read of yours ….” Home wrecker “

how-

is-

how is it possible someone writes so damn awesome

hands down just ugh *chef kisses*

so good

i'm so glad u liked it <333

i have so many files in my notes app that mention/are based on summer. its really hard to bid something goodbye that was never meant to stay long when you live around people and not with them. i am stuck within a corner of myself that i have created by consuming deeply irreligious media which never bothers the ones i live around. i don’t know why i am writing this because this isn’t making sense but it’s supposed to. sun today here isn’t shinning and all the birds depart from the sky by 4:30 pm. the verandah echoes emptiness even though we have just hung a new swing, knowing we will hardly sit on it anymore. we tiptoe around tragedies every other moment but in this house we never speak of the real. i need to read books and consume mitski more. the gap between those parked cars is making me realize how much i crave for a tightly packed space with my neighbours. god is not around because i was dreaming of calm waters this morning as i woke up with a jolt and my body didn’t shiver. the days will grow darker tomorrow but today is almost over and nobody seems to acknowledge how much they miss it.

Can I please be added to your taglist?🥺

heyyy star!! yes for sure<3333

taglist and transcript under the cut.

(send an ask to be added or removed.)

AN EXCURSION TO THE ENIGMA OF HINDSIGHT OF HIDING

when the dusk sets upon another day’s palpable roof, i climb the stairs to feel the cold in the clothes. the chill is nothing but another victim of nature’s pocket folds, another one that doesn’t last but occurs each day, on the stroke. “i rise, i rise, i rise”, i say when the sun is not around to make my way. i fail, i fail, i fail, i feel another eternity of a daughter’s fate. //the clamp of these adjoined roofs reeks of a damp shoulder that rubs on yours. i could see our neighbor’s television set, the men with their bar nibbles in the kind of bowl that i wouldn’t let another soul take out the crockery cabinet. stumbling in between the clotheslines, i call upon God to patrol the men in hiding.// i larp as another victim of the menstrual cycle- a lifeless frame made of the red; a work-in-progress. debugging the long-believed myth of a woman making a man, i climb the stairs two at a time. i am trying to open myself for the future, replicating my body’s instincts, too soon to not last long, like an unripe banana. // with hardly any antennas in sight to disrupt, i pick up grits to throw at our neighbor’s. they have held me too dear, caressed my head so much that now my hair is falling flat. and i cannot be God’s another child who loses beauty because the beholder’s eyes held them too tight. // but instead, i drop them on the street, hoping to witness some blood when a head crashes into them, hoping to witness some human in these beings. the thoughts have no end for their completion is symbiotic to the noiseless walls. the people in this area have given up on feeling pretty & i am thinking of applying the shoplifted Lakme’s blood-red lipstick. // each day, the covet to scare takes up a new member’s place in our house & my mother is falling short of the food to serve. each day, i give up another hair to look pretty when i comb. each day, i dream of fetching those china bowls and hiding them into the trap of nature’s pocket folds.

taglist:

@ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @bedfordhealyx @it-is-what-it-it-iss @kajukatliontop @nochampagneonlyproblems @champagnesrush @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad @dehydratedsucculent @parihumay @jules-hazard @eveesque @wigilda @theazurepoet @cloudlessnightssleeplessfight @catguinstudies @a-smart-dumbass

transcript and tag list under the cut! (ask to be added):

i am being in one but many forms

remember when it was about screaming once in two months? when i was not a big girl but my father was still old? when all the cheap porcelain was the centre of attention in our house? &, when there were no dolls but i wasn’t allowed to cross the road on my own?// i. the growing is like a venus flytrap: two-fold./ evil, like a fortnight before spring./ spring, like summer’s step-child./ when i remember/ my 8 years old shadow: i was becoming./ now, at 16, i want to be seen.// ii. the mirroring of another’s solitude was a/ foot less deep when i handed them my chocolate. now, i am making bread but to never consume. now, i don’t measure sugar/ or hear the alarm./ if it weren’t for the cries for 8 pm tv shows,/ i’d still be a little more tenuous./ i think a girl starts rotting when/ she feels blood in her body.// iii. not to say that i can lie today, but/ there was not much to lie about back then./ i broke a glass./ but another hand searched for the shards too./ and also! i never had to lie!/ my brother announced my mishaps/ before my mother even approached me.// iv. today, i do not lie on the ground/ but rush to the washroom to sit and stare./ i feel content when i grit my teeth/ & i don’t feel them breaking/ because,/ i always closed my mouth when i peed./ oh, don’t you know? my mother said/ it’s bad for your teeth when you let them be/ in the restroom. it weakens them./ “as if teeth are something that could be/ weaken! as if teeth have beards!”// v. to write nothing everyday is not a logic/ i want to normalise. but the thing is,/ it starts to feel ecstatic/ when i see a mirror & i stand to stare./ another being. same as me./ i exist,/ two fold: skin and bones./ tenuous: a rope tied to throat./ i exist./ i didn’t rot, i exist.

taglist: @ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @rottensummerlove @it-is-what-it-it-iss @kajukatliontop @nochampagneonlyproblems @champagnesrush @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad @ch3rryblo55oms @parihumay @jules-hazard @eveesque @wigilda @theazurepoet @star-dust-2317 @catguin-the-kitty-cat @a-smart-dumbass( still not working:((? )