thepoeticbubble - Tumblr blog

[thepoeticbubble]

[thepoeticbubble]

[thepoeticbubble]

[The depleting density of girlhood]

A juvenile space between girlhood and womanhood, the space where memory sleeps heavily in between,

muffled by the worries of growing into an adult

Worries~

My heart has never been audible to you, you have never noticed the amount of unexpressed grief tearing out of it - so loudly and wickedly

You will never understand,

To be seen just in the moment yet to have felt being seen awfully long time ago.

The space continuously widens, we diffuse out, we become someone else, something else by the end of time

-tabish.j

[thepoeticbubble]

our mind is allergic to separations for it's just the absence of love that accounts for infinite infections.

-tabish.j

[thepoeticbubble]

In paroxysm of love, your heart's going to suffer, it's going to be plummeted out over the marbled floor, miserably crushed upon by the feet of world,you know what,it's a going to be your final transaction and you won't be left in a state to make a deal ever after. Yet one will take ghastly risk, one will be tricked into it, once you will lose your heart, it's done, you won't ever recover that loss. You won't find an exact match of a heart that felt like yours,deeply and ardently even if you shift for an option of transplant.

-tabish.j

[thepoeticbubble]

I am living by the hope that it shall end well but then I'm taken away by the thought that it will end no matter in what shape and form.

-tabish.j

[thepoeticbubble]

Love passes eventually, time archives everything in its stomach and flies away. I think historically , time had arms which it amputated because it didn't want to hold hands with anyone except the one it loved. [Time can't be stopped, we can't hold it]

-tabish.j /one will always miss the flavour of love while stomaching meals for survival/

[thepoeticbubble]

My skin feels like an orphanage of goodbyes ,every goodbye has a jaw full of teeth and I'm asked to raise them soft alone while they dig into me.

-tabish.j / I talk too much about the things that burrow in me at a times, about the things people leave before they vanish/

[thepoeticbubble]

Sadness hatches out from the soft shell of my heart, cracking open an internal wound. I've always wanted to have a conversation with her to tell her, that my heart wasn't an egg shell and it had no freaking license to drive out of it in such a rash manner.

-tabish.j [sadness has no license]

[thepoeticbubble]

What kind of ritual is it to slaughter every word you have got to say to them in the name of sacrifice for their happiness.

-tabish.j [ confront it instead of killing it]

[thepoeticbubble]

I'm a forsaken house

Built on a bald paper

No poetry , no prose, no quote hashtag no nothing

[I'm blank, once words used to scream out of me]

I am like a haunted building,

Drawn in a marshy land

Certain to be swept off

More precisely to be swallowed in

Yet I keep the doors open

As if spirit of a dead language would arrive,

Slide itself in

Stare around and drop an infant in my arms , a cry of newborn poem would surface out

While I'll wonder weather to feed the child or committ an another infanticide (of feelings)

[The sin of killing an expression, a feeling soon as it's born, soon before it would surface out of mouth]

-tabish.j

[thepoeticbubble]

How can we love a spiteful memory that grows hemlock in our heart, how can we water that invasive weed foolishly for its flowers that are meant to kill us after they are in their full bloom.

I think, we should get rid of it by forgetting it and I think memory is a neat abuser, it secretly breeds Stockholm Syndrome in us.

[seed Jasmines in my field of tension but nothing less]

-tabish.j

[thepoeticbubble]

Do not call my heart by a false name or refer to it as you have referred to someone else's heart, do not read my heart with a wrong pronunciation nor transgress the constitution of my heart by ruling it in plurality, no hearts been like mine, no abbreviation can stand tall just call me the way I am built without intending to shorten my intricacy.

/ a legal notice against a corrupted jurisdiction of love /

-tabish.j [ read me, but read me correctly]

[thepoeticbubble]

Our heart sobs in silence until ache arrives wearing anklets so to dance to our sadness in the loudness of its existence.

-tabish.j

[thepoeticbubble]

I think my dreams are obese! They don't seem to fit in any space.

-tabish.j [no news from moon]

[thepoeticbubble]

In my dream, no one brings a lifeboat and I sink dreadfully. "Then I wake up, I witness my worry has flooded my heart and I am struggling to rescue myself. "

-tabish.j /no news from moon/

[thepoeticbubble]

Hearts are more like sunflowers, searching their sunshine despite of sunburns.

-tabish.j