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  • amulyafreelancerr 7w

    #MondayBlues @writersnetwork
    So, out of the blue, this rhyme. Hi?

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    Silence, fragments of memories, and guilt wrecks me,
    Tears on my knuckles exhibit everything I’ve ever feared.
    My clenched fists are home to my palm’s empty curves,
    I’m afraid to open them, hoping you haven’t disappeared.

    Flawless and extraordinary hopes of love are,
    Catalytic and cataclysmic state of helplessness.
    And how beautifully we choose to burn in this fire,
    Knowingly, happily, something that we’ll never confess.

    I’m burning in this fire, and I’m here to admit,
    Conscious thoughts of brimming melancholy.
    I’ve ridiculed my heart suffering in this chaos,
    Blinded to the thoughts of what it is actually.

    Staring at you staring back at me, you’re my everything,
    Stardust over your long eyelashes, you are my home.
    And I’m here to stay, to make it alright, and worth it,
    Smile and tears, a flare of love, I’m here to burn down Rome.

  • amulyafreelancerr 47w

    \I'll write some lousy poems
    over your nape,
    with my fingers,
    and I'll stare at it for a moment.

    I don't know if I'll kiss it,
    my words are too beautiful
    and maybe,
    I'm just really scared to see
    them fade


  • amulyafreelancerr 47w

    “I was 7, he was 15. Bhaiya used to take me for these long walks by the sea and we had this special scorched rock structure that we used as a pedestal, and we used to give these long speeches about winning an award. He knew his little sister was scared on one such bright day, we both knew our uncle was coming tonight. My mother had prepared his favorite paneer curry, and I was given clear instructions about being in the room unless called. None of us liked him, my brother hated him. He used to have this bad breath and always came too close to us, a little too close.

    We heard the doorbell and I rushed back to my room. Bhaiya told me that everything's going to be okay and that he'll be gone by tomorrow. Bhaiya went out and greeted him with a smile while mumma took his bags and prepared tea for him. I heard ruffled laughs through the crack of my door and for some unknown reason, I felt a tear gushing over my tender cheek. I tucked myself in and closed the lights, even darkness was easier for the seven-year-old me than the thought of him calling me out.

    Mumma woke me up shortly after I had fallen asleep, it was time for me to come out and have dinner. She told me it's going to be okay. Clinched fists, ruffled breaths, and a scared smile, I went out and greeted him. He asked me to sit on his lap and I did, he gave me those little kisses over my ear and I felt this uncomfortable rush of blood inside me. Bhaiya looked at me, I was looking back at him. We had dinner whilst listening to his war stories, about how brave he was. Sure, we all know what he was.

    It was past my bedtime when that happened. The thing that makes me cry, not out of sadness alone but out of happiness. I scored really well in my assessments, and my uncle seemed happy about it. He held my hand and started patting my back, and all of a sudden I was in his arms, and he hugged me tightly. There's something you should know about my brother. He didn't like to be touched a lot by anyone, especially my uncle. He hated his presence and was disgusted by the thought of coming close to his existence. Bhaiya saw him hugging me and all of a sudden I heard his voice near me. He was close, and he asked my uncle to hug him too. "Am I not good enough? I want a hug too, please!", uncle glanced at him and chuckled. I felt a soft release on my wrists as he grabbed bhaiya's back. There I was, standing behind my mother's back, peeping at bhaiya. I saw him smiling as uncle hugged him tightly. I saw him smiling.

    That day I realized that my brother will do anything for my safety and comfort and undoubtedly, nothing is purer than seeing someone give up their comfort and safety for the benefit of someone else. I guess that's what family is all about. I'm glad I have a brother like him, I really am. Next morning, I held his hand as we watched our uncle leave. We were relieved, and ready for the sea that missed us on that bright day!”


    Had a dream about something!
    �� Kelly Sikemma

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  • amulyafreelancerr 47w

    This one's from the POV(point of view) of a constellation. I've used the imageries that resemble these arrangements in quotes, and below are the constellations I've managed to use while penning down this!

    Horologium- Clock
    Cygnus- Swan
    Grus - Crane
    Ursa Minor- Little bear
    Ursa Major- Big bear
    Gemini- Twins
    Lepus- Hare
    Andromeda- Princess of Ethiopia
    Fornax- Furnace
    Orion- Orion, the hunter
    Leo- Lion
    Eridanus- River
    Pisces- Fishes
    Sagittarius- Archer
    Sagitta- Arrow
    Libra- Balance
    Columba- Dove
    Corvus- Crow

    I see you!

    “I'm a circumstance, an intention, your future,
    maybe I am the afterlife, the sequence of life.
    A disoriented feeling of orderliness,
    I am what predestination is all about.
    I observe patterns down there,
    I'm a constellation staring at a reflection.

    I see time travel through the dimensions of a 'clock',
    every hour, a minute has a minute story to tell.
    Every second, I second the existence of patterns,
    I uphold the notion of resemblance.

    The Northern beauty, ice-like magnificence,
    I see 'swans' mingling with 'cranes'.
    The 'little bear' curious about the 'big bear',
    I see innocence and an inquisitive smile.

    I witness the art of putting the 'twins' back to sleep,
    something, only a mother can pull off, graciously.
    I giggle at the twins faking,
    Not even the 'hare' story could inspire trance.

    I see a father dreaming about the 'Princess of Ethiopia',
    it reminds him of his late wife.
    In the day, he burns his dream in a 'furnace',
    at night, 'Orion-The Hunter' hunts down 'lions'.

    And then I see you sitting by the 'river',
    conversing with the 'fishes' about love.
    I see the 'archer' in you sharpen the 'arrows',
    And I catch you every night looking back at me.

    Ice and fire, there is the 'balance' of life,
    illusions and fascinations, the magic of life.
    I send 'doves' down to look good with the black,
    and I send 'crows' to accompany this life's white.

    I'm a constellation,
    A disoriented feeling of orderliness,
    I am what predestination is all about.
    and I observe patterns down there.”


    #blue_pov @bluepuppy01 #opposites
    @writersnetwork a little love? I miss you! ❤️

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    I see you!

  • amulyafreelancerr 47w

    You, You, and You!

    Unsurmountable, we defy distance and time in those little moments when you ask me to hold your hand and I softly rub my thumb over the screen of my phone or in those moments when I ask you to smile because that's the only thing that turns around the worst days into the best one.

    In this huge void of uncertainty, everyone often ends up losing themselves part by part, at unexpected places, and in unimaginable situations, but I feel all the pieces I lose somehow find its way back towards you and maybe that's why I feel whole when I'm with you.

    How can you be real and transcendental at the same time, so real and yet so dreamy. I crave for your presence every second even though I always feel you resting your head over my shoulder just like right in this moment I do, and I know I'll love you more in the very next second and crave for you, yet again.

    Let's dance together under an open sky on some beach we dream to spend a holiday on. I don't care if it's a beach or some crowded place, just hold my hand and lock infinities with me forever. You might think of me as a weird lover but it's as simple as me answering every other question about life with a “You!”

    There are no patterns in life, I guess. But I do believe in links. I believe in maps that lead us towards our purpose. To think of your magnificence and put it into words is a challenge that I happily lose every time I try to figure out what you are; the link, the map, or the purpose itself. But who am I kidding? We both know you're everything and much more than this for me.


  • amulyafreelancerr 48w

    Abstract/Conventional/Anything ?

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    Temporary Post

    I should write something from the point of view of __________________ ?

  • amulyafreelancerr 48w

    Cry me a red mystery over
    the camellias I stole for you
    and gift them back to me,
    I shall have the autumn sunset
    chrysanthemums I want.

    In the thick of every dissonance,
    I shall have a fragile petal, to
    gently interweave it with a strand
    of your hair that spirals around my

    And on days I don’t have it,
    will you steal some dust and
    be the light for the bud of my
    apology to grow, and I’ll cry
    the tears it’ll need.


  • amulyafreelancerr 48w


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    They tell you to be happy when you're struggling to decide between silence and sound. Nothingness is a curse but is it more deadly than a little of something that leaves you at a point of absolute craving and thankfulness at the same time?

  • amulyafreelancerr 48w

    I hope everyone had a good start to the new year.
    Goodnight, fam! ❤️
    @writersnetwork #writersnetwork

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    A voice is screaming inside your head, your eyes are silent. You clinch your fist hard and breathe out heavily. When you try to breathe in this toxic air, the sound of your irregular heartbeats ask you to do things that are wrong. You either cry or you run away from all of this.

    There are things that are right and then there are things that you think are right, and it's completely normal for the other person to think the same. You try to explain your feelings but you ruin your apology with reasons. This is the worst feeling of all, feeling a wave of helplessness flow through every ounce of your skin. You breathe out heavily, again and again, counting your heartbeats while staring at your tears that are falling down over the exact same place.

    You might be wondering that it's the latter half of this muse and now I'll try to heal you but that's the wave of helplessness that I was talking about which won't allow you to heal. You're stuck, not with anyone else but yourself. Sit back, count your heartbeats, loosen your fist a bit, breathe. A voice is screaming and the world is noisy but you can't hear anything, not even your own voice because you're way too silent now. Even your eyes are silently staring at the world that's falling apart slowly.

    Sit back, count your heartbeats.

    Don't lose count, you can't.

    You won't.


  • amulyafreelancerr 48w


    “Dr Priyanka Reddy, a veterinary doctor from Shamshabad in Hyderabad was found dead with her body partially burnt under Chatanpalli bridge in Shadnagar on Thursday morning(28th November 2019). She had worked as a doctor in Kolluru village.

    The incident happened on Wednesday night(27th November 2019). She was raped, smothered and then burnt by four men who are said to be hailing from Narayanpet.”

    As we're moving into a new year, I wanted to write something about this and hope things get better.

    Read it slow, I felt it while writing and I know it's not even close to what the victims of these horrific crimes go through!

    Thank you!


    “I'm a hushed scream amidst the blares of that car which passed by her last night, tyres of which left an impression on the ground, same as that on her wrists and inner thighs, a memento from her uncle.

    I'm a drop of sweat that fell over the metro floor, only to surround myself with three pairs of stranger sneakers shadowing a stiletto. I fall in continuation and it didn't really matter if I was over her cleavage or her nape, they kept staring at me and my only escape was to fall as soon as possible. Yeah we're bound to fall now, I guess.

    I'm a nightmare that woke her up last night, unclear thoughts and unimaginable fears of taking that night shift at the call center knocks over her door almost every night now because her best friend's virginity fell prey to some strangers last month.

    I'm the worry her parents, siblings and relatives bind in the second and minute hand of the wall-clock. I'm those 23 missed calls from her boyfriend that she missed while enjoying at the office party with her male colleagues who just posted an instagram story, 23 bottles of Bira with a “fucking wild night” tag. She returned safely, made sweet love to her boyfriend, lied to her parents, hushed the worries somewhere in the tick and tock of the clock.

    I'm the stream of blood her labrador sensed flowing through the bathroom door, wrists lying helplessly over the edges of the bathtub, her endless rants about how he always came so close without her permission and her silent late night sneak-in yesterday, a pale face and slow crumpled steps.

    I'm the ashes from her burnt body that is free now. I fly freely into this open air, still caged by these delayed court hearings and candle marches. I mix with this air that everyone is breathing and now you breathe my pain, my reality.

    I'm the dream I dreamt, to save lives and ironically I couldn't even save mine. I hope you save yours, I'm inside you. I'm in this air you're breathing, you're my reality now, don't fail me.



    �� fakeadco

    @writersnetwork @mirakee Thank you for an amazing year! ❤️
    #writersnetwork #pod

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