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an empty box, a fortress for a child
storage for a mother to put her wedding dress
perspectives of cuboids and squares
crooked lines can also be stairs for a stick figure
signs of being alive, a beating heart
where these lines end, another begins
through time, another experience
artists are magicians casting spells
and the enchantment remains endless

~ a poem dedicated to DC.


these bitches cannot handle their alcohol
spend the rest of these nights in a washroom stall
spend the rest of these days shopping at the mall
reasons why I do not fuck with these bitches at all

colourblind, the artwork


Self Portrait (colourblind) by me

Posted the poem again, just in case…

You saw me in all my shades of red yellow and blue
And all that I saw turned into nothing when I saw you
Black and white, you stayed in the grey
All the paints smeared when you touched me
All that I was beautiful for, turned into ugly
You were smudged everywhere, unable to add another layer
If only you weren’t so fucked up in your mind
I would have loved you better if I wasn’t so colourblind

the chills you left still intervene between my spine
wrecking every nerve you come in contact with
extreme thoughts in my mind

whatever we do is malpractice
running my dreams in a circle
sometimes your nonverbal communication speaks different 
from everything that remains absent in these words
if never spoken, why do these words push me into absinthe 
architects, what we have constructed is a labyrinth 
then we built a foundation to protect ourselves from us
laid down conditions to determine what remains and what turns into dust
kisses on your neck left permanent scars
got me questioning the limits of how far
before we plummet these summits were never meant to hold
but our hands did


you locked yourself away in a room made of mirror
and you forgot you are claustrophobic, perfect
images of you making an infinite of you
you’ll always be the realest
crown on your head, you are no one’s queen
you sing yourself to sleep everynight
you are your own king
showers of pleasure make you dance
vapor drops roll down your back
you sexualise as you close your eyes
fantasies of living overseas with two dogs and yourself
making money sitting in an audi r8
riding solo, ask you how you doing? great
no opinion matter greater than yours
how come you look so good but never flatter yourself
you don’t ask for help
when you don’t know your roads you’ll find them
rather, you’ll make your own
buy yourself gifts cause you don’t give a fuck
tuck yourself in your own throne, you never gave a fuck
you don’t need a man to understand you
you are the only one who can stand you and that’s okay
you’ll always be okay
and in the end when all this is over
you’ll want to die alone, on your own terms
and you’ll die in your own arms
WhatsApp Image 2017-08-22 at 1.46.44 AM.jpeg
artwork by manasi hegde

it’s a relationship of two     and you know i’m gonna wait on you     doesn’t mean you keep me waiting     i’ll be patient till twenty     that’s when you said we maybe start dating     you don’t know how to name love     you don’t realize that it’s me     crying on your shoulder kissing your neck     if that ain’t love then what it mean     at times we might not end up on the same page     but we part of the same book     at times i hit you with my rage     you knock me down with a left hook

all these balloons filled with helium
can all these balloons heal me i am numb
all these balloons filled with your breath
when they deflate can i taste you in the room
all these cards hung by ribbons float away
don’t take away my happiness 
it’s new and i just found it
happy birthday, happy birthday

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ps it is on the 9th of august