19 posts
  • bouncy 46w

    Beauty and The Beast

    What if one night I invite you with an invitation sealed with a wax rose emblem and inked in a cursive?
    Would you give it a whirl or turn it down?

    Let's haunt moonlight in the woods and put on candle light rituals in a haunted house in the forest. Read classic poetry. How about gothic literature? We shall hold ghost story contests together and talk about the people who have been killed mysteriously by the author in the book. Why not set a classical music with wine? The notes softly bouncing on each one of the walls soo high, even the sky wails, "I'm scared, the music might melt my clouds".

    Please enter the room with a silent foot that makes no sound upon the floor and put me on the black velvet bed, with black roses engulfing all across, with it's thorns soo sharp that even the clouds fear the thorns could hurt them to cause their tears flood. Let's reveal our lust with silent whispers as ghosts intertwined, as the moon shifts shape, ready for their feasts.

    Put your lips on mine, suck the blood and I'll follow you like the rainbows following the rain. Let's turn naked than the flesh, make love stronger than the bone and drink each others freckles. I'll turn wet enough for a fire to thaw and spread thighs wide enough for a thunder to let in. I'll be your viaticum, feast me like a hungry wolf.

    And when all of this is over, lets sing together in a language so old that even earth no longer remember and laugh so loud that even the sky cries, "I'm scared the resonance could destroy me."

    Let's make our date little radical, little unreal, perhaps evil.

  • bouncy 55w


  • bouncy 56w


  • bouncy 62w

    A survivors tale

    I wore a lacy black top,
    All time favourite colour,
    Which can bury the scars underneath it
    That are carved on my skin
    The skin which hides
    Billions of thoughts beneath it
    My skin isn't rough
    To Handle a bullet but
    It Holds a lot beneath it
    My skin is smooth and
    Soft but do you even care
    What type of skin I posses?
    Absolutely not!

    All you wanted is
    To Move your fingers
    Over the skin not caring
    About what it holds.
    Would you still crave for my skin
    if I say that all my fingers
    Wants to do is to carry
    A book and bleed the pain
    In the form of a poem?

    What if I say that beneath
    the skin I'm wearing
    There lives the dead demons
    And they were waiting to eat me alive?
    Would you still think of owing my skin?
    What if I say that my skin
    holds on many thorns
    to protect the demons beneath it?
    Would you still want to
    move your fingers across the skin?

    All you care about is
    what my fingers can do
    When alone in the dark
    but little do you know,
    All that my fingers are able
    To do is to hold a knife and
    Cut the skin that you are craving for?

    I'm a survivor.
    Surviving the life with a skin.
    What if I say
    I no longer want to
    Survive with this skin?
    Will you try to help me
    or would you still long for it?

  • bouncy 62w

    They say!?

    "It's okay not to be okay" they say.

    But for how long? Isn't there any limit to feel not okay in this short span of life?
    Seems like the days are passing too fast.
    I don't do pretty much anything but to think and think to an extent where I wonder what am I even thinking about? Home doesn't feel like home anymore. It's more like the four concrete walls around to hide myself in. May be there lives the dead demons in my head which never leave me. Feeling like I'm trapped in my own skin or may be in my own head, for they say it's all in your head. Am I so high on thoughts? I overthink that I'm over thinking to an extent where I wonder what is even over thinking is?
    Yes, I don't like the phrase, "It's okay not to be okay." I love it to be more like "It's not okay to not be okay".
    It's not okay to be upset and have mood swings for long time because how can we like in the universe think that it's okay to feel completely hallow and numb even when doing the things we love the most? It's not okay to feel nothing because to feel nothing means to feel every goddamn thing all at once. Isn't it too much for a person? It's not okay to feel confused and stuck because the world never stops moving and how is it even okay to be stuck at one place for too long?
    I mean isn't it too much to live with a single phrase when your head is living in the hell?

  • bouncy 62w

    There is a tinge of sadness in her voice when she is using the humour to make light of hers emotional eating and the weight. "I can lose 10 ugly pounds anytime - I can just cut off my head", she laughs. But underneath the humour she uses as the self defensive mechanism, she always took each and every word to her heart.

    She hated being fat and ugly. She thinks the only mistake was that she is fat. She never had this thought about herself on her own, but it is the world that made her feel this way. And the damage that did to her self-esteem and self-respect resulted in the inability to see herself as anything but fat and ugly. Yet, she kept on laughing at herself when she is around people, mocking her body and hers need for food in a ways that further damaged her self-respect. But later, alone in her room she cried as hard as she laughed.

    Everytime she steps out of her room, be it school, party, functions or any relatives house, people would bully her.

    One day, she had gone to a party and all she did was sat silently in the corner. Meanwhile, a boy came close to her and said, "How many stomachs do you have? One, two, three ah...and.. four, offcourse the fourth one would be your boobs".

    The other day, she had gone to one of her relatives home. This time too she sat silently in the corner. An aunt came to her and said, "Oh girl! How fat have you grown! Actually, thank you, atleast now there is somebody that can give competition to my daughter". Her daughter had PCOD.

    She wore a top, she stood infront of the mirror. Everytime she would look at herself at the mirror, all the comments that she had ever heard would start spiraling inside her head. She took off the top, changed to the nighty and told her parents that she is not willing to go out.

    That girl became so guilt of her body that she stopped going out for parties, stopped talking to boys and top of that she even stopped getting ready every day. Everytime somebody could pass the comments on her, she would laugh at herself but when she came back to her room, all she did was to cry alone, without saying anything to anyone.

    #sadness @writersnetwork @mirakee #bb_dark

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  • bouncy 62w


  • bouncy 63w

    I'm a misfit soul

    I contemplate at the reflection in the water.
    She looks tired and numb,
    Feeling nothingness.
    I cerebrate
    Where I came from and
    What am I doing here
    "In the writing community"
    I cudgel my brains,
    Wondering what brought me here
    Why do I write, what I write?
    Perhaps, I'm the soul of a butterfly
    Who lost it's way back to home
    From another community
    I wish to fly back,
    I hopped, I jumped,
    I tried, but I couldn't.
    There comes a day when I could fly off.
    But who is it now in my mind
    Writing all the verses which I'm writing
    Who says all the poems with my mouth
    Who is it in my ears who hears my voice
    Who is it always striving
    To write off the numb feelings
    Above all,
    Who is it asking these questions to me?
    Did I come here by my own?
    Or is it the wind what bought me here?
    If it is, I request the wind
    To fly me back to my home.

  • bouncy 65w


    It was a bright and sunny day
    Fluffy clouds drifted across the sky
    A beam of orange rays were
    Passing through the clouds

    Boy was chasing his girl
    Holding a pair of scissors
    Trying to cut her hairs
    Making fun of love and
    Obsession for her long silky hairs

    Tired of running, they both, with
    A shallow breath, layed on
    A deck chair under an umbrella
    And burst out laughing crazily

    She stares into the mirror
    Recollecting that particular day
    Spent together in a garden
    She tries to heal through
    Sharing them with her dairy
    Trying to pen down but
    She never was able to do that

    Now she hates her hairs
    Holding a pair of scissors
    She snips an inch of her hair
    Every single day

  • bouncy 66w

    #mirror #bb_dark #bb_md
    P.s: Eisoptrophobia is a rare phobia, that causes sufferers to be irrationally fearful of mirrors or seeing themselves in a mirror.

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    It was 2am and the room was pitch-black
    I was wide awake, I heard somebody whimper
    "Oh look! Look into me"
    "Oh stand! Stand upfront me"
    I ambled, venturing to confront
    Evoking my own reflection
    She gazed back at me with
    Pale skin and sad eyes

    The demon living in my head
    Started reflecting my tales that are
    Messing with my mind since years
    She laughs at what I wear
    She said that I'm ugly and stupid
    Pathetic and failure
    She chanted the hymns
    Living the hell within me

    The mirror tends to speak the truths
    That you're too afraid to say out loud
    I ain't afriad mirror's but the scariest thing
    I ever had to encounter was
    My own reflection and words from within
    That was the moment I had to face
    All the dark parts, anxiety hits hard
    Dried mouth, panic attack, nausea
    I flinch getting trouble breathing
    Dilated pupils, rapid heartbreak
    I cry out of thoughts for ending life.

    The mirror only shows what you want to see
    My eyes show what I already know
    They show hundreds of different
    Incomplete reflections of me because
    "I'm dead from both in and outside".

  • bouncy 67w


  • bouncy 72w


    Heard my mama calling my name
    I woke up and everything felt wrong
    Peeped through window and saw
    Everyone standing still, gazing at my house.

    Mama pulled me back and whispered
    "Don't go there, I heard it too. "
    "But, I..I just heard you whisper?
    No! Don't stop me mama. I'm going."

    Family set off for burial rites
    Clan sobbing, neighbour's staring
    I walked close, only to find the corspe was mama's
    "Bu...but I just saw her in", I pondered.

    I darted to the room and found her missing in there
    Was bemused by what was happening
    Rushed out and inquired dad to which he retorted,
    "The corpse is not your mama's."

    I walked towards the body, wondering
    And found out the cadaver was mine
    Panicked, was in such a scurry
    I biffed myself hard on my cheek

    Found myself on my bed
    And realised it was a nightmare

  • bouncy 77w

    Let me Cry

    Let me cry,
    Cry like a baby.
    In the public,
    To be picked up by mama.
    For my broken heart,
    To be fixed by mama.
    For the food,
    To be fed by mama.
    To let it all out,
    To be cuddled by mama
    Let me cry,
    Cry like a baby.