|A weird 17y/o, just trying to figure out anything and everything.|
I AM 17.
I am 17 and I don't know better they say
But if my best friend says she likes girls
The same way as I like boys
I don't think you should silence her voice.
I'm 17 and I don't know the world they say
But when I wear a skirt, and no matter what they say, I'm not asking for it
My skirt doesn't define my worth.
I'm 17 and I don't know better they say
But when my arms are sexualised in every institution
I question how the skin and bone of one gender troubled one and not vice versa.
I'm 17 and I don't know better they say
But if piercings and tattoos were touchstones for worth
I'm scared the people who spewed venom at sight...
Do you know what it feels like to wake up every morning with no desire for
anything? It's awful. Actually, awful isn't even the accurate word to describe it.
There are no words that I could use to describe what it feels like. It's every possible
emotion, but at the same time, it's nothing at all. The anger, the sadness, the
hopelessness and the confusion. They're all trying to get out at the same time and so
they cancel each other out. And this is what you're left with. Emptiness. A void of
numbness that nothing can fill. You can try, but it doesn't work.
No matter how many times, your friends say they love you, our hours you spend
asleep, trying to escape reality, it all catches up to...
Some days I feel weak . Some days I feel tired. Some days I look
at the words I've written and they make me smile, and they make
sense, but I don't feel their passion or their bravery. I have a bad tendency
of only talking about the days where I feel the best, and I'm embarrassed
by the days that are grey and empty and dark. Those days are there though.
Those days happen. I'm scared that if I talked about those days, people will
worry & talk about me. There isn't anything to worry about, though. I'm not the
same person everyday. I change. Like the moon, I grow and I fall. I'm always there,
but at times you'll only see pieces of me, because I'm not proud of all that I am.
It's hard to be ...
People mourn for Romeo and Juliet,
And I feel bad for Dante and Beatrice
Because losing your lover is painful,
But reminiscing someone through poetry is devastating.
But I never had anything else, except words.
So, last autumn, when you left
I wrote about you on the autumnal leaves
And for the first time, autumn felt like spring.
I wrote to the clouds about your hair,
How smooth it is, like the strokes of Van Gogh
And the clouds never felt ashamed for floating shamelessly.
I wrote to the Himalayan peaks, about your eyes;
The same eyes that made me drown in them, like Atlantis,
And the mountains echoed the song of the waves of the Atlantic.
I wrote about your voice, to the summer breeze...
A Book that helps me cheer up : 2am At The Cat's Pajamas By Marie-Helene Bertino
A book I could reread every year : Simon Vs the homosapien agenda by Becky Albertalli,
A book that helps me escape reality : Small Great THings by Jodi Picoult
A book that I'd recommend someone : Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts
A book that inspires me : Wings of fire by Dr. A.P.J. Abdul kalam
A book that never makes me feel alone:Charlie And The Chocolate Factory By Roald Dahl
PS : It would be really awesome if you could recommend me some books because I just finished a book and now I don't know what to do. Please :)
She was trying to walk away
And hold on ,
At the same time.
That's the mind at war,
with the heart.
India has just reached a landmark decision for it's LGBT citizens. 🌈
Here's some facts that you need to know about the verdict and the case.
• 58 days ago, the case to squash Section 377 was reopened.
•The Supreme Court took petitions to reconsider the criminalising of
'UNNATURAL SEX' from eminent personalities like Sunil Mehra, Navtej Singh Johar,
Ritu Dalmia, Aman Nath, Keshav Suri and others.
•This is not the first time that Section 377 has been repealed in India -
In 2009, Delhi High Court said, " The Section has violated Articles 21,14 and 15 of
the Constitution. " But after that, the decision was reversed by the Supreme Court
•LGBT activists have been workin...
I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages and telling
people I love them and telling people they're absolutely magical humans and I can not believe they really exist . I love saying , " you're a good person. " and " you brighten my day. " I like to live as straightforward as possible.
Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.
Maybe it's weird. Maybe it's scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be- to just let
people know you want them , need them, feel like, in this very moment , you'll die if you do not
hold them, touch them in some way whether it's your feet on their thighs on the couch or
your heart in their...
When you start living for the smallest reasons, that's when
you know you're really living. The smell of rain after the thunderstorm,
the shades of pavements when it's autumn, the mediocre midnights and
the color of the sunsets , the smell of bakeshops early in the morning,
the frosty breeze of the approaching winter, the warmth of oven baking
Christmas cookies, the thickness of paper while flipping through magazine
pages, the smell of new books and new clothes and new things. When you
start looking at things, really really looking ,you'll start living. Because then
you'll understand how it is to really be a human in this world full of people.
-and that is what I consider magic ✨
I find it so odd when someone says they know
everything there is to know about a another person.
How can you know everything there's to know
when they're still growing ,still learning and changing
every single day? The person you knew two days
ago, has experienced enough in two days to be a
different person today than they were when you
last met them. It doesn't matter if they don't seem
so, because people don't even realise how much
they've changed themselves . People are forests,
every season brings growth, change and movement .
And like a forest, people are constantly evolving
into bigger, better and more beautiful creations.
She has a bookshelf for a heart,
And ink runs through her veins,
She'll write you into her story,
With the typewriter in her brain,
Her bookshelf's getting crowded,
With all the stories that she has penned;
Of the people who flicked through her pages,
But closed the book before the end,
And there's one pushed to the very back,
With its title in the finest writing ,
"THE ONES WHO LOST MY TRUST",
There's books she's scared to open,
And books she doesn't close,
Stories of every person she has met,
Some people only have a sentence,
While others once held a main part,
Thousands of inky footprints,
That they've left across her heart,
You might wonder why she does this,
Why write of t...
I'm good for a while
I'll talk more, laugh more,
Sleep and eat normally
But then something happens
Like a switch turns off somewhere
And all I'm left with is the darkness of my mind
But each time it seems like I sink
Deeper and deeper
And I'm scared..
Terrified that one day I won't make it back up
I feel like I'm gasping for air
Screaming for help
But everyone just looks with confused faces
Wondering what I'm struggling over
When they're all doing just fine
And it makes me feel crazy
What the heck is wrong with me?
If there's one thing that I may tell you
Let it be : You're your home.
Your body is the only house
That you'll ever truly own,
Maybe it's got some broken windows
And there are tear stains on the floor,
Maybe you lock things that you wish you weren't
Behind it's many doors,
But there's wisdom on its bookshelves,
And a laugh to light the rooms,
There's a vase upon the table
Where the love you've grown all blooms,
Dreams sit on the mantelpiece
Next to your trust and kindness,
Where you use them all so often
They have no time to collect dust,
So please don't look at mansions
With that envy in your eyes,
There's more that makes a home
Than it's appearance or it's size,
Don't let the...
She stretches her arms out,
Stares up at the sky,
Wishing for the wings,
That could teach her to fly,
She's trapped on earth here,
Feet tied to the ground,
The forces of gravity,
Keep pushing her down,
To the world, she's one person,
To one person, the world,
She wants to be an angel,
But she's only a girl,
And though she's life's puppet,
She'll break all the strings,
But for now, she's just dreaming,
Of earning her wings.
She was the summer's last sunflower,
Writing a letter to July,
As though one final correspondence,
Would make an easier goodbye,
But already she could feel them,
The approaching winds of change,
An autumn she would never see,
Both beautiful and strange,
As the heat's embrace got softer,
She watched the leaves all fall and settle,
And had one last look for love,
Within her few remaining petals,
But though the sun had made a promise,
She knew it was the one he forgot,
As her final petals fell to earth,
He loves me,
He loves me not. 🌻
She sat alone,
Alone and at home.
Where her screams were silent,
But her mind was violent.
Her insecurities hid deep inside ,
And they did indeed eat her alive.
A tear rolled down her face,
And her heart begin to race.
She wanted to take a blade and tear her skin,
Where her depression lied deep within.
This would continue for days, months, years,
Until she cried her very last tears.
She would decide that that was enough,
And the world around her just got too tough.
She would take a pistol and put it on her head,
Congratulations, she would now be dead.
Would this make you happy?
Will you be glad?
That I no longer have to be so mad.
Will you mourn me?
Will you apologize for ...
She's not made of alphabets,
Her chest doesn't beat with words
On her way back home every evening,
There are no short sentences either
No essay, no story, no prose
Can do justice to her
She, dear world , is simple
She is all feelings trapped in one body
It's just that when she breathes
A poem is born.
There'd always be a world,
Outside thus moment
And in it,
Left so much behind
We'd have broken,
Promises and run
From as much
As we'd have run
But those moments
Can't get to us now
Not in the dying
Of another day
Not in grief,
But in peace.
What if the sky
Got tired of its shades
Of crimsons and blues
Mixed up with black and white
On it's pallette
And painted everything grey?
Would you still
Would you feel one
With it, on your dark days?
Would you extend a hand
And whisper "it's okay?"
You are always on your own. Always were. But you had a tough time. You were never a part of the crowd no matter how hard you tried.
Newsflash! It's going to be tougher. And you'll probably never be a part of the crowd.
You know why, don't you? You were right all along. You're a misfit by all means and purposes. You have different plans. You don't call them dreams anymore.
The best part? You're already there ! I know you feel stuck, but you're on the way. While other people are taking the escalator, you're climbing the stairs.
I know you have tough time climbing. The mountains, the stairs are the harder way. But you go in with your skillset. You fail at times, but you never lose.
' WORDS '
Words fascinate me.
How a string of carefully chosen letters often magically bind together to form an intimate connection with the reader, it fascinates me.
How mere sentences can cause not only ripples but tides of change, it fascinates me.
One can do anything from altering people's perspectives to making them smile open that is so real for the quiet privacy of their room, when all of their defences are down, with the shortest or the longest paragraphs, it fascinates me.
There's an infinite amount of words in this Universe. Each of us is given a limited quantity, owing to which we're all able to see and feel , is restricted.
I want more...
She loved him
With a messy heart;
He hugged her
With fragile bones;
She touched him
With scarred hands;
He kissed her
With bruised lips;
All their flaws
it's not a good feeling;
When people feel like home.
It terrifies me,
For I'm in a constant fear of
If they leave, ever.
In a constant state of
Pleasing them, and
I lose myself, sometimes,
In order to make them stay,
And, that's the worst.
I was taught
=Speed × time
But now I know,
= Memories × sleepless nights
You need to stop smiling at me
With those perfect lips,
Calling my name with your
Cool husky voice,
Laughing at my jokes with a
Mask of childish innocence,
Wearing that shirt of yours
That makes you look
A hundred times more attractive,
Accidently having our skin
Pressed against each other,
Running your hand through your
Perfectly tousled hair,
Telling me I'm weird like
It's a compliment to keep,
Making it look like my heart
Only beats for you.
You'll be amazed at how
fall into place
We loved inexpertly,
In whispers and gushes,
Fragments and bursts.
How much to give,
And what to take.
..and isn't that magical,
How the moon in you,
Calms the sun in me
From burning to ashes.
I'm forever grateful to the Universe for this.
You made a mess
Of my emotions,
Dismantled the walls
That used to
Guard my heart.
And tattooed yourself
All over my soul,
The second you told me
That I was your 'HOME'.