Thursday, March 23, 2017

Meena


her fingers bleed wise words

as her coffee brown skin 

glows in the setting sun  

she writes, inspires and fights, 

she's poetry soaked in inspiration

at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

the unsafe word

I can't remember the last time I felt safe. It's been a while. It feels like I have been stranded in the middle of the ocean, on a c...

  • rant.
    I'm alive. (I'm telling this to myself.)  I know I haven't paid this blog my usual depressing visit in a while, but I'm arou...
  • the w-day
    I remember thinking that the day mon petit frère gets married, my life's purpose will come to an end. Like, I'm living on this plane...
  • close shave
    I almost died this Tuesday—without me even trying this time.  I was attempting to jump onto the overcrowded Virar-bound train during the pea...