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
My lipstick Stains his addictive tip His intoxicating bliss Caresses my lips Suppressing that itch Only addicts know When they crave their fix I’m addicted to his Bad habits He’s my nicotine trip So I chain smoke him every time I need a fix. I don’t know why guys smoke so much, I love my
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.
I look behind me, and the soft blur steadies slowly, squinted my eyes a few more times and I now see clearly. It’s a broken bridge, there’s a hollow gap, a deep emptiness that separates us. We used to share intimate little spaces, strange but familiar darkness, and the perfect amount of comfortable silence. I
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
I was buried in a pleasant cemetery, Beyond the walls of the city, Near the banks of the Mississippi, When my body was stolen from the Ground. I died as I lived, languid and cold, My corpse interred beneath stone too old, My heart placid, as hard as gold, When my body was stolen from
when i left you i left you with words. words i regret. they taint my dreams with delicate pain and even music cannot block them out because the music is you you are everything! everywhere. you are the green waves on a Summer’s morning you are the sushi shop down the road you are the
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
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
This one means a lot to me, kind of got emotional towards the end. Let me know how was this for you, cheers guys ❤ ❤ Hope looked like red. As my father laid on uneven ground, Blood seething from his gunshot wound, While he slumped in a puddle of red liquid, Looking towards my
touch me just enough to awaken a tingling sensation brush your soft fingers yet long polished nails along the canvas of my body a shade of sapphire blue – gems on all fingers yet you bear no rings – paint me an image that is invisible yet imprinted through frail motions paint me an image
Hurting yourself will not help anyone else – I watch the ink run down my arm the pen, writing the feelings I could never explain with words; sitting on my bathroom floor never led to anything but unwanted art.
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.
The graveyard welcomes Everyone that comes in, And they never leave.
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
She had love entranced into every part of her being. her skin was woven with love her heart pumped love yet, she felt miserable. Her eyes captured the view outside, a melancholic painting. the gloomy weather, the dark trees. the silence coming from the still of life and besides the rustling of trees from the
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
I deeply apologize that your fingertip’s burnt as you touch mine. I deeply apologize that you learn about pain but I’ve memorized it. For I myself, don’t know why my love burns those who try. If you want to connect with me, follow me here- Insta- pia.majumdar Twitter- Pia Majumdar New story at Wattpad- Will
The line between consent and assault is blurred in my memory If I gave consent – but I was only a child while he was three years ahead, a senior taking advantage of a freshman is that considered non-consensual? Even though I did not say no. This memory has been suppressed for over two years
Hey guys, hows your day going so far? I have a little announcement to make, something exciting is coming up soon. I am currently writing my next story, I will post it one by one on my wattpad account- @piamajumdar Brace yourselves for a wild and fun-filled emotional ride coming your way. All I can