How To Draw A Straight Line (Or Boundary)
A boundary is a lesson in consent. It’s rooted in a sense of self. Who you are, says what you allow.
Red On The Floor
I thought about people who hit me. In plural. I experienced enough before adulthood. Yet at 23, when a man I loved hit me, I knew something was wrong.
Keep Your Kudo
Are you chasing compliments, dodging insults, fighting defensively? Are you building your identity propped on someone else’s kudo? Compliments are not about your feelings or you, at all.
Men Who Feed Me
I had a bad relationship with food & men. Being female meant being food provider. Social rules turned to acid in my stomach. Eventually they’d pour out of my mouth as bilious words, undigested pressure. I asked shaadi boys if they could cook before their moms could ask me. No…
Language No Bar
I was an English-speaking/writing poet in a sea of people who defined patriotism by their own language. I wrote about my journey of patriotism through language.
Delirium
A poem of delirium when the pain has transcended escape.
Poetrotica
They says poets are just plain horny and boys with guitars are just trying to get laid. Well..I am a poet. And I can write in goosebumps scattered across your skin, like Braille for the words-impaired. My language could lie in words all over your body. And making love to…
Reader
Everyone else withers away into corpses, but a writer leaves behind a corpus. Reading is an act of timeless love. Be a reader.
Timeless
If you were born in another era, who would you be? What would your personality be like? Your values? How would you survive that world? What role would you play?
Poetic Justice
Your body language speaks your name. I have only my words. I’m a bundle of all things that hide inside “I’m okay.”