urban noises flow through the empty streets of her grey and fluid surrounded brain she is a city, full of chaos and havoc wartorn but whose ruins still smell like home her heart is a museum that stores memories and bleeds nostalgia and destroys itself flowers grow from her lifeless ruins and every sky scraper buried beneath her bones chases light, points towards the sky and stands still her castle is in flames and is wrecked by hurricanes that emerge from her own soul; a civil war self- hatred rains over her when everytime she kills the people residing within her concrete heart due to the unsettling and destructive war inside still she wakes up with the hope- painted sunflowers and learns from the fluttering butterflies the art of rebuilding, letting go and holding on
His eyes were so blue,I could mistake them for an ocean or pearls with unknown origin. It seemed ike the universe had lost a part of itself and somehow adjusted in his eye-sockets. I told him everything about the way he looks a little broken and lost and everything about the way I want to love him in the emptiness and dark. I traced my glittering fingers over every wound and scar of his to let him know that I will be there to fix all of his fragments and calm the unsettling and chaotic hurricanes of his soul.
[things i said too quietly]
"your brokenness is piercing my soul" I whispered under my breath as he pushed me on the floor and I pierced my hand on the broken shards of the wine glass. The dripping blood mixed with the mahogany wine and an aura of betrayal filled the air. My brain started recalling every definition of the word abuse and I pushed the thought away. " He just needs some time" I said to myself quitely. Later that day he bought me my favourite flowers, daisies and lavenders and apologized for the chaos that revolves around him. The fresh fragrance of flowers tickled my nostrils and dried all the tears away.
[things i didn't say at all]
The rustle of falling autumn leaves and the stormy weather blended with the sound of hurricane that had originated somewhere within him, it was a kind of destructive force that was born to crush everything into chunks ; me, our home ,dying summer and all the happiness. I accepted the fall of universe without any rebellion just like the summer had surrendered itself completely to another season. I didn't try to stop him when he crushed all of the memories we had been building since years neither did I say anything about the blinding darkness that was making me lose parts of myself.
[things i said under the stars]
"It's a beautiful feeling to choose yourself over all the mess. No other person can fix the brokenness of another human. For the injured and broken parts demand self love, flooding from emptiness of ones own heart", I said to myself as I felt the dewy grass beneath of cold feet. Every inch of my skin was twitching with bliss as I stared at the empty yet starry sky and promised to choose myself over everything, again and again. ~ Aleesa Khan _______________________ @miraquill@writersnetwork#thingsyousaid
the next time i wander in search of a home the one that brims with heartbeats and déjà-vus i will make sure i don't settle for a person for people keep shape-shifting into thorns and jasmines and may seem like sunsets and all of the burning stars but hold enough power to wreck a laughing and smiling home into a million shards and leave you to mourn over a broken abode that perished whose ruins now smell like rusted heartbreaks and concrete betrayals instead i will build walls around my lonely heart and place tiny stars over every wound and scar i would maybe grow flowers in the empty and bruised parts so the light would guide me and help me trace a path to my body, my real home the one that that would resemble hope, courage and bravery something like the west of the moon and east of the sun
Do you still fear the darkness or did you find the light that burns somewhere beneath your cold bones? I hope you have built yourself a warm little home,which might not smell like coffee on Tuesday afternoons but is warm enough to heal a heart, radiates kindness and feels like the stars. All these wounds which are bleeding right now must have turned into scars and I hope you have found the courage to embrace them as if they are stars of a clear December night sky, burning through the folds of history and forgetfulness. A part of me is proud of you for living the uncertain and unknown. Please don't forget to chase butterflies and dreams because if you do, the butterflies will lay dead in your stomach and weigh you down and the dreams, well, they will live and mourn and lament for dreams live as long as dreamers do. If you ever cross path with love and dawn hold them tight and nurture them with care so they never let you go and fill all the voids of your heart with happiness and flowers but if you encounter heartache, welcome it in and nurture it as well so it teaches you healing and smiles at you while you fix all the cracks of your heart with flowers and stardust. No matter how many skies fall, I will always love you.
he thought she's a butterfly when she held the cascading flares of her little white gown her blonde hair was the brightest hue of his grey life hopping and spinning in her dress she'd make the flowers grow in her father's withering world the crimson of sunsets, roses and clouds; that's what her favourite colour was the same colour that dripped through her slitted throat and bleeding thighs when her father found her at the end of street beneath the flickering light of lamppost 3 gunshots and 26 heartbeats that's what it took for her father to kill the rapist and tear him apart contentment and bliss flooded his eyes as he held his head high with pride and put around his neck, his jewel and prize the knot of the death rope and left everything behind the inhumane world and its humans
the ashes fall from the platinum sky and flutter, like butterflies of a summer afternoon the destructed city collapses beneath the rising flames and takes its last breath it's another night jewelled with stars blurred by smoke and human fragments a deserted house cries at its homelessness as it fails to remember its broken parts its residents lay dead everywhere and their souls; too tired to rise again
a mother loses her child to death and the night grows brighter she lays herself down and find a spot to die a place from where her dying eyes can clearly see the laughing moon she holds her dead son and her shivering lips meet his numb and blue body and sunsets flow through her veins she subtly flutters her lashes steals glances at the moon as the night engulfs her
I was eight when I first wrote a story inspired by the fairy tale, Cinderella. The story started and ended on the same page. I still remember crying and begging for I wanted my parents to get that published.
I joined miraquill in May of 2018 and words can't express how thankful I am to @iam_rose for guiding me, teaching me and inspiring me, she is literally an angel.
It is really overwhelming to share with you all that few days back I published my first book titled
"DROWNING IN STARS"
It is a collection of poems I've written and I tried my best to make sure that it is worth reading. The book is available on Amazon and flipkart. For convenience you can get the link on my Instagram @/_aleesa_khan_
I can't thank y'all enough for inspiring me, guiding me, reading my write-ups and for being so supportive everytime.You guys are awesome and I am grateful ❤️ _______________ @writersnetwork@miraquill
and every night i hold my knees and lower my head i feel my head; a supernova ready to explode into stars as i repent to my heart and prepare it for battles while it whispers and laments and mourns and cries,
Winter and falling snow shape-shifted into death and made me bury the naive parts of my younger self. I tore myself to pieces, separated the skin that carried innocence from the bones that protected my fragile heart. I replaced the fear in my blood with courage and belief and took away all the kindness from my heart that used to overflow. Now there are times I dig through the layers of snow and soil, trying to bring my old self, back to life but now everything is numb the damaged eyes refuse to respond to light, for I filled them with too much darkness and the skin doesn't twitch when sunlight strikes it for it still bleeds the fears and uncertainties.I yearn for the old me when I pluck the tiny daisies, when rain falls and butterflies flutter because a stern heart doesn't know what to do when life meets it. ~aleesa ____________________ @miraquill@writersnetwork#prose#prosepoetry#wod#pod
I spent a substantial portion of the night of 9th to 10th May 2018, writing my first 'major' poem "Tainted Words" and then I spent a substantial portion looking for a platform to publish it. By a twist of glorious fate, I found @miraquill and the journey has only become sweeter since then. I can't imagine myself without Poetry, it is as much a part of me as my heart and it will remain so. Thank you to everyone who's supported me, who's left wonderful comments under my posts and who's reposted my posts. I'm so so grateful. Thank you to @writersnetwork and @miraquill for the constant encouragement as well.