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  • k_arathi 68w

    Grave of the Fireflies X Life more than Survival

    Licking away last of the pickled plums
    We never could conceive
    Shaved ice and remnants from stinky clay
    To become our reality.
    Yet
    With bartered memories and bones sucked dry,
    We still managed to smile under the starlight.
    We could
    Trade our struggles to the nights,
    We could
    Hold the fireflies,
    The shimmering hope of our shriveled eyes.
    The need, the wish to live last of the moments
    Like the days we once desired,
    Days with fewer graveyards to mourn over
    And letters getting prompt replies.
    None of the days we lived
    Were studded by prosperity,
    Yet they were adorned by heartbeats
    Of two who had been bonded for life.
    We lived, didn't we?

    There's an abundance of fruit drops,
    Now that the land we lost
    Has prospered under the surrendered dead wills.
    Mint, Strawberry, Orange
    None of them shall now cost more than
    Seeing the tears you shed
    To metamorphose into the widest of smiles.
    Yen would have fallen short of its worth
    If we were able to hold on
    A little more while.

    An empty casing as I have become
    Stifling between the ragged breaths,
    Alive..No...Just Breathing
    I forgot to ask you,
    Was I an ideal onii chan?
    Older brother
    If so
    Why did my firefly have to die so soon?
    @k_arathi
    :
    :
    In the moments of silence and miseries brought by war, somewhere in between "Grave of the Fireflies" shall always revisit you to leave you teary-eyed. There are references from the movie and if you couldn't relate then you should know that this gem ought not to be missed

    @mirakee @writersnetwork

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    With bartered memories
    and bones sucked dry,
    We still managed to smile
    under the starlight.

    (Read Caption)

  • k_arathi 74w

    Itachi Uchiha X Neurodivergence

    The eyes that witnessed war,
    Ears that rattled with the cacophony of plots,
    Arc of factuality was hard to build,
    Harder to redefine.
    Life is driven by a cause
    But shaped by conflicts and
    Overridden by the choices.
    I bear feelings unregistered
    Yet I know all of them as visitors.
    Betrothed to Anastasia
    I rise to a tomorrow to make amends for today.
    So what color is peace
    For I paint a canvas
    And I can’t seem to decide
    Does it seem to have vermilion spilled?
    Or do the strokes of sanctity prevail?
    Which perspective should I set as my ultimatum?
    There's a life flashing by
    And I hold on to the ideologies I have been able to imbibe,
    Derailed by the flipping beliefs and practices
    I might end up being called a child of paradox.
    They know my life more as a tale of struggles,
    Missing the pieces of typical moments.
    But it's a life with junctures and realizations,
    Paragon or not
    It's a story not to be disregarded from being narrated out aloud.
    @k_arathi

    ----------------X-----------------X-----------------

    I couldn't stop myself from being inspired by “a story of our own” poem on the Youtube channel - MarsupialPudding . Beautifully strung together as it is and the idea of it just collided with one of my favorite anime characters Itachi Uchiha. There are lines that align with the character’s life and not neurodivergence, and vice-versa but the idea of making them come together was irresistible to me so I decided to write away a small poem on it..
    @mirakee
    @writersnetwork

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    .

  • k_arathi 89w

    Ganache that escaped my tips,
    Silk tee stained from it,
    The nights when I tended to gobble on calories,
    I was a mess ironic to the wardrobe so slick.

    Millennials tired of the facades and charades
    Yet are unbeknownst to the reason it exists,
    We all become
    Listeners craving to speak,
    Babblers seeking ears to lend,
    Caricatures of their humour,
    Mulled wine on someone's lips,
    Poetry spilled on a brisk evening,
    Shade of joy in someone's pallet,
    Definition of renaissance in other's life.

    Stuck in a game of Chinese Whisper
    My tongue is tied to what one perceives,
    For I liberate my leaking passion
    And they quilt it with love,
    I talk for seclusion for my mind
    And they already see me as a sunken soul.

    Defining and redefining,
    Keeping part of ourselves on mortgage,
    We curate our beliefs and set forth to build ourselves.
    There's is a little voice,
    Prompting,
    "All of the little efforts matter"
    And I choose not to ignore it,
    Just like the post-it note stuck on my decade old fridge,
    Torn yet reminding me to
    Eat my almonds alright.
    @k_arathi


    @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakee

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    I was a mess ironic
    to the wardrobe so slick.
    :
    (Read Caption)

  • k_arathi 94w

    A lewd call from behind
    Clatters all the way,
    You hold your prayers under whispers
    For the silhouettes to vanish,
    For streetlights to shine brighter,
    And to be able to reach out for the doorknob on time.

    I long for the gaze
    From the eyes of my beloved,
    Any other gaze that falls upon me ain't heavier
    Unless it trails all over my body
    Looking for an opening to devour the skin beneath.
    The gaze that falls upon me ain't hideous
    Unless its intention shall be to hold me accountable
    And conceive me as the suffice to their erection.

    They tell me
    That I haven't gone through the trauma
    To feel scarred.
    But when I witness papers
    Bloodied with incidents so often,
    My mind materialises it all
    Letting it to crawl alive and annihilate the present.
    Masking beneath a huge sigh
    I let it go,
    Fear camouflages with the emotions
    And resides,
    Until next time.
    @spilling_thoughts_

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    And the fear camouflages with the emotions
    And resides,
    Until next time.
    @spilling_thoughts_

  • k_arathi 104w

    ��upple, it was supposed to feel
    But mirrors reflected cracks, beige.
    ��hine own art wasn't considered to behold
    Yearns filled for those lines to be scraped away.
    ℝipped apart by the believes
    Lurking doubts flurried,
    ��yes were blinded by the dreams,
    Gaping, as the differences prevailed.
    ��houghts derailed,
    Now constructed visions
    ℂhastened by what grew along your inches.
    Moulding that heart time after time,
    ℍolding a drape across, everytime,
    You now wish to grasp back the abandoned courage,
    ��aking up yourself to embrace the change.
    Let that drape fall, undisguised you
    Now find yourself walking past the raven eyes, liberated.
    ��t nights when the fingers run beneath the linen
    To touch your skin, almond honey,
    ℝealise that nothing hinders the warmth you radiate,
    Slowly release the sails, for no more its a hurricane.
    ��eenly look forward, to another day.
    What if acceptance didn't come easy or at all,
    ��o long have been the process
    When finally you stopped looking yourself in disdain.
    @k_arathi
    :
    Have I accepted that these lines are beautiful? No!
    Have I stopped seeing them as scars? Yes!
    I'll confess of hoarding body butters and oils for the lines that stretch across my skin but its revelation has never flooded me with sense of shame, never.
    There are many out there who'll relate to finding themselves oscillating between 2 thoughts :- whether wanting to lighten the marks shall make you a seeker of idealisation or if accepting the marks shall make you unbothered about your body. To be honest you don't have to be restrained to follow one thought.
    It's okay to make efforts for yourself and all the while feel contented with the current state of it.
    It's okay to define a confident version of yourself and to seek it.

    @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakee #ceesreposts #pod

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    What if acceptance didn't come easy or at all,
    o long have been the process
    When finally you stopped looking yourself in disdain.
    ©k_arathi

  • k_arathi 106w

    ‡ Chamomile ‡
    "Wreathe of prickles and petals
    Entwined in each other's presence,
    Palms that feared to bleed
    Didn't dare to wreck the pair."
    Laying somewhere in the mahogany antique,
    You whisper to me its glory
    And my heart anchors itself to its essence.

    Through the rants that echoed
    The monosyllables uttered,
    Faith that leaps over the minutes
    Bliss hanging on tight.
    It's the chamomile evenings
    Which reminds me of mended hopes
    Sipping through its peace
    I repose into the memories divine.

    They never told
    About the tides we'll have to survive against,
    While chasing the sunsets pretty.
    Pillows that swallow my sighs
    Stacking it over
    The memories from the moaning nights.
    Giggles and dreams
    Like fireflies,
    Scintillates within the four walls.
    I wrap my arms around
    Flesh and bones.
    You.

    Mornings glazed with glances anew
    My steps longed to witness
    The wreathe
    That breathes our beginning.
    My eyes behold
    As it lays withered,
    Realisations and assumptions stutter,
    But there came your whisper,
    "Together they demised
    Along the clocks that ticked time
    But none out there wrecked the pair."
    @spilling_thoughts_
    :
    :
    Since forever "Love" has been my favourite metaphor to weave comparison to misery, happiness or utopia. I have been asked several times about falling in love but its more about it being the embodiment of several of my emotions and eventually this became my favourite expression to hold on to.
    Cliche or not, shallow or deep resonating to a feeling and venting your heart out does not need a definition. All you need to do it let out and feel alive through it.
    @writersnetwork @mirakee @mirakeeworld @readwriteunite #ceesreposts

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    Palms that feared to bleed
    Didn't dare to wreck the pair.

  • k_arathi 106w

    ★Arum Lilies ★
    Basking in the moments
    Auburn skies calling in for the night,
    Like rushing through the mustard fields
    Palms against the winds,
    Grasping nothing
    Sailing through time.

    Steps creaking
    Against the norms,
    Hushed secrets sneaking
    Away from the scorns,
    Nestling in the quilted dreams
    The sleep filled the eyes with content
    Night after night.

    Myths didn't instill the adversities
    Yet wrapped our heads with dreams.
    To date, I read out our memoirs
    Inked with imperfections
    Dated promises
    And four-leaf clover resolves.
    I read it out
    As an au revoir to the feelings,
    Obliged to you
    Breathing through me.

    With a parting eulogy
    I picked up 2 arum lilies
    One for each of us,
    Joining your demise
    Adorning my vacant corner.

    I'll live sowing
    Fragrant reminders,
    Blossoming against the golden hours
    For the destinies that cross paths.
    And
    Amidst the juggles and hustles
    I'll morph into the tranquil nights
    Half-dazed,
    Until I spot you amongst the Orion stars.
    So Seri?
    @k_arathi
    :
    :
    :
    :
    Humari Adhuri Kahani X Dil Bechara
    @writersnetwork @mirakeeworld @mirakee @readwriteunite #ceesreposts

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    I'll morph into the tranquil nights
    Half-dazed,
    Until I spot you amongst the Orion stars.

  • k_arathi 107w

    ~ Dandelions ~
    My steps trace along the dawn
    Through the grounds well known,
    Like a ritual accustomed
    I reach at the edge of the cliffs
    And in between the raves of the shores
    I collect the whispers that the zephyrs bring.
    Wanting it to be your mumbles,
    I breathe it in,
    Feel it all.

    Under the glow
    Sunlit honey,
    I play the montage
    Filled with memories,
    And as it rolls against the mundanity of time
    Pulses get lured out of its rhythm
    It dances a little tipsy
    In the sobriety of now,
    In the memories of whiskey twilights.

    People here haven't normalised
    To see me tripping over the present.
    They name my longing as
    Melancholia
    Ask me to stitch a new facade.

    But springs haven't given me away
    To the first frosts,
    The scent of me as "me" is still staunch,
    It's a phase I need to be in
    Where I pluck your dandelions
    One by one
    Out of my lawns,
    Wanting to tuck it behind my ear
    I pay visit to your stone
    And drop them
    Whilst naming it my grave for the emotions
    Foregone.
    @k_arathi
    :
    :
    :
    Poetry that hits at midnight ✨
    @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakee #ceesreposts
    #pod

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    The scent of me as "me" is still staunch

  • k_arathi 110w

    We don't exist in places
    We live through their memories.
    We dwell in today
    And die reminiscing their stories.
    ©k_arathi

  • k_arathi 112w

    You didn't board on the boat
    Won't realise falling into an abyss
    Paper facades
    Dreams dissipated into the thin air
    You drift into the dark
    Just to paint it in your hues
    To get lost through the spaces
    You wish to be found in.

    Muffled chaos
    Howling echoes
    One Mississippi
    Two Mississippi
    Three Missisi..
    You struggle
    A breath short
    Choking on the words unsaid
    Blown wick of will.

    23 missed calls
    Their thoughts
    Proven abstract
    Mocked maniac.
    But
    Amidst the crowd known
    There was the one
    Who lent their ears on the 24th call.

    Anguishes heard.
    Four Mississippi
    Took too long to follow
    But because
    You knew someone was on the other side
    You decided to reach out to the light.
    The present materialises.

    This reach won't promise you
    A studded forever
    But that particular moment
    You were saved.
    @k_arathi
    --------------------------------------------------
    It can't be stressed enough on how important it is to talk your heart out with somebody and more importantly to be the listener that the troubled one seeks for. I might not be the best one to preach about how to prevent depression and anxiety from manifesting a being but I know that a burdened heart yearns to share its load, someone to make them feel that they aren't alone. It's the sense of being lost that drives them to not feel the need to be ever found. This state is often a labyrinth, connecting dots from most unrelated places to draw dubious conclusions. Words might fall short and fear of contradiction may loom over but a call for help is the pitstop you'll need. :
    @writersnetwork @mirakee

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    Save me - I'm Fine