Today I poured a cup of whiskey for a man that’ll never drink it, The bartender said, “where’s your friend”? “In heaven” I replied. Her face looked solemn, And for a second I swear I saw her have a flashback in her eyes, She poured another cup of whiskey, “For the ones that left too
The sadness came and it didn’t look like you or the words that erupted like volcanoes from your vocal cords. It looked like me with my eyes wide watching every mistake I’ve ever made in the mirror on my bathroom wall. It looked like every last drop of alcohol that comforts my throat at 10
Treat yourself right first, before you try to treat others accordingly ❤
We decided to go on a date, it’s been ages since we saw each other due to our hectic schedule, long distance relation sucks. We decided to meet at the Starbucks on Friday at 6:30 pm. Thursday night, lying in bed I thought about the blood; blood has always been the reason I did this.
I really hope she comes with us too, when we leave this house. Who are you talking about? The one who plays with me till dawn, my friend who lives under my bed.
I’d let you break my heart in pieces to see the words they would become, emerging as poetry.
He knows what he wants and it’s not me, she’s quiet, distant she’s not the one on your mind at 3am when you’re drunk enough to sing bad karaoke // Her eyes glistened with unshed tears while the 3am darkness haunts her reminding her of her lost ones a part of her forever gone. Pieces
“You’ve been treating it like a summer home; vacant, drafty, neglected; and yet you expect it to be in top working order whenever you decide to honor it with your presence”, he scolds. “But I must inhabit the bustling city, my first home, if I am to survive the marathons of days of disembodied vigilance.”
When I saw the woman in the middle of the road swat thin air, I recognized it; schizophrenia. I approached her, she turned, and her face distorting horribly, her hands waved me away. “No, no! Go, go now!” she demanded, heading off down the road. I followed at some distance, trying carefully not to spook
The mole above his lip, at the left side, the way his lips curled when he smiled, the way he adjusted his specs and his messy hair fell on his forehead… Yup… I fell head over heels within a few fragments of time…but didn’t mean you knew everything about me likewise. But, if you are
Just as he was starting to calm down, he heard a knock on the door. He turned around quickly, his heart beating like a drum, and took a few steps forward. He was having a hard time breathing now, but he didn’t notice that. If his fingernails were digging into his palms hard enough to
Her thoughts were rancid, like bile in the back of the throat, because her insides were rotting away, infected by the black, putrid thing that she called her soul. It was putrid in a way that permeated every gelatinous sinew of her body, her organs, her bones, her muscle tissue, her very skin was utterly
They say past lives don’t exist They aren’t real We just need to hear about ourselves It’s how we cope, just how we deal. We only exist until we don’t DNA is why we’re “unique” Horoscopes and the cosmos are for a mind that’s meek We romanticize as shortcuts to answers we seek. Yet we
I only wish to be by your side I wish for it every single night, but you didn’t bring me along for the ride, in fact, you didn’t take notice until I was out of sight. Bury me alive, don’t leave me at the door. I’ve been stretching this drive down to the corner store.
for now I have been caught in the glimpse of you, and now I understand. you are a nomad in the wind, a nomad in the sunless afternoon, whose soul runs restlessly wild. and though your stay may be short, to not live these moments with you at all, it would certainly would have been
Me: This is a great morning. I better make the best of my day. Paranoia: You’re probably going to get hit by a truck while crossing the road today. Me: I have a test tomorrow. I better prepare well for it. Paranoia: You won’t be able to give a test after getting hit by a
as the stars trickle down from the sky they take the form of raindrops every time they splatter down on me I feel every shattered aspiration in those little splashes of starbursts I feel them stab into me demanding to be set free. crushing a dream is like ripping the wings from a butterfly and
My next victim was a little more challenging than all the rest. When he asked me to go get coffee with him I was surprised, I didn’t think I would ever get the opportunity to claim one like this. His eyes were blue, they taunted me and made my mind dance over the idea that
I was ready. I was ready to fall again. ready to jump without any hesitation. To see my lips form a smile for another person. To feel the butterflies in my stomach come alive again. To know that I’m falling and someone’s going to catch me, as soon as possible, before I hit the ground
And so you see now, maybe sitting on my bathroom floor isn’t as bad as I thought. I lean back against my bathtub, the feeling of cold tiles against my bare skin. my mind wants to think my body wants to move I want to run and scream but I am numb. I close my
What is war? war is hope, to see your loved ones after it ends, without knowing if it ever will.war is love, the kind of love which turns nation against nation but stands united together for once. War is guilt, which eats you up like a worm, feeding on rotten creatures. but you can’t do
I need someone; Who will speak prayers between my legs Recite “Our Father” on my skin Whisper “Hail Mary”s along with their tongue Let me turn water into wine Two lovers to one. Alas, it all seems like a distant dream now. Follow @pia.majumdar for more.
If I must, It’s best if I drown at sea. Under shimmering light, Breathing in gulps of saltwater. Slipping away from my life The ocean would hardly notice if I spent the eternity there. I would puncture the surface To take my last breath of air. I’m still waiting, Happy faces, old memories, familiar feelings.
He winces from the pain, She bleeds from her bruises, While they watch and laugh together. It hurts to move. He wants to slit his wrists, She cries herself to sleep, And they have no regrets. It hurts to blink. He vows to fight them, She promises to stand up, But they hit back harder.
She lays on one side, and he lays on the other. she is a beautiful flower against the brutalized landscape, he, thistle and thorn on a path rightfully left untrodden.
It’s like there are two dogs that I hold inside of me. One wants to sit on my lap and lick my hand, and play and run and go for long walks. Then there is the other, It wants to grimace and growl and bare its teeth, and rip the face off this world and
I keep seeing spirits in front of my eyes white wisps of smoke floating by why are these ghosts taking shelter in my mind? They do not belong here am I just turning into a ghost myself? No one sees me, no one knows am I invisible? Yes. Better luck next time finding you. I
I can trace all the routes, To and fro in my mind, Remembering grey skies, With incessant rains. My footprints wear into the concrete, With incessant pacing. Over these beloved miles… ~ PIA MAJUMDAR
‘Park here,’ Tia said, ‘We’re early and I’d like to sit in the sunshine for a while.’ Daksh parked the car in one of the empty bays and went to purchase a ticket. When he got back to the car Tia was standing by the door grinning broadly. ‘See!’ she said. ‘You’re holding on to