#poets on desiblr

[thoughts-of-a-caterpillar]

Like my mother

Like my mother

Like my mother

I need to be beautiful like my mother.

She's the most beautiful woman to have ever lived. But no one knows that except me because no one else has the same wounds as her like I do which can carry the entire truth of her existence. No one else has cried when she cried, bled when she bled, died when she died.

No one else has inherited her rage.

No one else has inherited her grief.

No one else has inherited her bloodlust.

Except me

So I need to be beautiful like her too.

I'll paint my lips to hide the crimson stains of spitting my own blood.

I'll darken my eyes to hide the bruises from nights spent with mania instead of rest.

I'll pluck out every imperfection in my brow until it no longer furrows for men who do not deserve it.

I'll put kajal on my waterline so whoever makes me cry has to see me in all my horrifying anger.

I'll powder up my cheeks to hide the tears my father never dried and put lotion on the skin that holds the scars from wounds I was too young to heal.

Like my mother did.

Because I need to be beautiful like my mother.

Even if it leaves me lifeless.

She has been lifeless for most of her life too.

[budugu]

If this post gets a lot (let's say 10k because that's impossible) I'm going to start writing poetry again .

[tasavvur-ki-duniya]

loving your mom is like

I love you and I hope I never lose you, please stop talking to me I can't handle it anymore, I don't know how to go on without your support, why won't you just listen to me for once?, oh god I miss you and how do people do it without their moms?, please l just want you to be proud of me, I want to stay at home and pretend I'm still five, you're giving me bone nausea every time you get silently pissed off I need to leave right NOW, I can't imagine when I won't need you in my life, just let me relax for two seconds, please mom, hold my hand and acknowledge my pain without feeling like it's your fault even if some of it is.

[ritikajyala]

I was a gifted child. Until I wasn't. I was the golden girl. Until I couldn't burn anymore.

My parents expected me to build wings of gold and fly further than anyone could ever try. I don't blame them, having a child to raise is like sculpting a clay pot, you can shape it the way you like, paint it the colour you fancy. To raise a child is to play God. To raise a child is to be God.

But to be a child is to fall, to make mistakes, to fail. The thing about being too bright at an early age means you burn out by the time you're 16 and suddenly the world around you becomes more gray and terribly, terribly lonely. The fire is never warm enough, nothing is ever enough. And one day you find yourself begging to a godless sky, begging for a new spark.

I was a gifted child once. I was the golden girl. And one day, I burned out.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

[journalsofanaesthete]

I think the best thing that our generation has normalised is having "online friends" . The bond created with these people is not based on their looks or their status but on the basis of their likes, their personalities, their favourite fandoms and their interests. You might have never shook hands or hugged them but still you are more comfortable telling them about your stupid mistakes and stupid jokes. The best thing about these friends is you don't have to meet them regularly to keep your friendship alive. And it's also the worst part not getting to meet them regularly or even once a week or once a month. From meeting them in the comment section of a meme to listening to their rants to updating them about our lives, online friends become our forever friends. It's a different kind of friendship but it's the cutest no pressure of any sort just two people sharing bits and pieces of their lives with each other and supporting each other.

[peaceishim]

I found this on twitter.

(Not mine)

[g0j0s]

orange peel theory this pomegranate peel theory that. but have you thought about badaam peel theory? when they soak the almonds overnight and peel them in the morning for you. now that right there is love at its peak.

[neelihara]

Jane Austen would've loved Ao3

Rabindranath Tagore would've loved Tumblr

Agatha Christie would've loved true crime podcasts

Leonardo Da Vinci would've loved drones

Vincent Van Gogh would've loved Procreate

Cleopatra would-be loved Vlogging and Makeup videos on YouTube

Shakespeare would've loved roasting people on Twitter

Benjamin Franklin would've loved memes

Nikola Tesla would've loved WiFi and would binge watch cat videos

Franz kafka would've loved blogging

Socrates would've loved TED talks

[psykopaths]

Would you travel to another dimension to taste my lips,

Would you love me for a lifetime where others have left in few minutes.

Would you be mine and breathe life into me,

As I'm wandering in this limbo my skin feels numb and my eyes can't see.

[soujjwalsays]

City, where every stone has a story to tell...

Varanasi is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend & looks twice as old as all of them put together."

- Mark Twain.

[thoughts-of-a-caterpillar]

Something about comparing the way some parents raise their children for the sole purpose of fulfilling their own dreams to the way lambs are raised with love only when they're supposed to be sacrificed and fulfil the prayers of humans hits so hard

[manincaffeine]

Of course you'll hurt me

Of course I'll hurt you

Of course we'll hurt each other

But that is the very condition of existence , To become spring means accepting the risk of winter , To become presence means accepting the risk of absence

[ritikajyala]

"Do you still love him?" I know the answer.

"I did, once. I don't know, memory is a faulty thing and the past moves in circles. I don't think about some things for months, only to obsess over them for a week. Also, I don't think I know him now. I did once, and I loved him, loved who he was and who he could be. But I know he's a different person now, I am too."

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned

(read full excerpt here)

[journalsofanaesthete]

People don't look beautiful because of their looks. They look beautiful because of their perspectives and thoughts. They look beautiful because of the way they treat people, the way they talk about things, the way they care about their loved ones, the way they appreciate art, the way they share their stories and the way they listen to yours. They look beautiful because of the things they do, the songs they listen to, the movies they watch, the books they read and most importantly because of the things they say.

[g0j0s]

female friendships are so precious and beautiful. sisterhood is so inherent in women. there is a life force where many women are sitting together and conversing. their giggles reverberates through the deepest chambers of the even the coldest of hearts & softens them. when they take care of each other together from oiling their hair turn by turn by to putting henna on each other’s palms, everything is a sacred offering to some source unseen; but only felt. they spend hours talking about things unfathomable from the basis of love to the state of the world, the soul, beauty, last, present & future & many other philosophies. because when they’re sitting in a room together that’s where they’re easily allowed to ‘be’. here, they aren’t someone being smothered by alotted identities. they aren’t just someone’s sister or daughter or even lover, but just humans trying to make the most out of their freedom to breathe.

[tasavvur-ki-duniya]

we all talk about the intimacy of eye contact but do you ever think about the intimacy of looking at someone's eyes while they're looking at something else-either because they're distracted or they're deliberately allowing you to have this moment to yourself or they know that it'll be too much to look back at you directly-and if so does it ever just make you go full crazy