Grid View
List View
  • natasha_a 2w


    My sorrow effervescent
    briskly as arsenal in a child's nails
    conflate the elision of wretched wombs.
    We are mad lovers, drinking to recite
    our vows on top of the roof for
    god to let this night stay a little longer.
    His presence shades m(e)osaic
    but what fortune is it to be painted
    but still empaestic?
    Because victim of a burnt house
    is always an orphan.

    His bones are ellusioned,
    it stammers for sodium in the sea,
    we are beleagured players
    crawling to an inn but the epiphany of
    snow counts our existence on tails of a wolf.
    I want the stars to fall today. Let me
    wish for our eternity to stay
    longer than stability of primary cations.
    It is our last dance, we are
    not heroes anymore, our capes now rest
    on two kittens down the road.

    'Little sky, never start a sentence with but'
    But how could imbrications of past lead
    to dry goodbye kisses?
    But how ineffable can a star be for us to
    break and fall into the sun?
    But how opulent can comfort be for a
    poor to offer flowers at our grave?
    But how wherewithal our actions were to
    falling cascades in middle of woods?
    (But) How do I write about us when all we
    ever learned was to pyrrhic away?

    Let me love you until the sine functions
    are defined on anti clockwise intervals of
    two hundred and seventy degrees.
    Let me (fade away)/ let me sleep today.

    ~never meant to be

  • natasha_a 4w

    Harshi, I am alright love, just wanted this to be out. I know you are proud of me and I love you too.


    [P.s.- I read both of your writeups. Wait for me to spam the comment box early morning tomorrow.]

    @afira_albab I miss you di, I love you.

    Read More

    Things I wish I could tell my mother

    1. I failed everything that belonged to me. I don't seem to like cupcakes now, not even the ones filled with chocolate and melted marshmallows.

    2. I get scared when you open the door and throw all the stuffs, I fail to put at the right place. My bag is still there on grandma's rocking chair, she knitted it for me.

    4. I crouch down with my knees up to my chest everytime your friends come over and you praise how well I drink integral and sinusoidal functions as if they are some aspirine shots made from phenols.

    5. I bite my nails everytime I hear the whistle go off at early morning as the sound of lid collide with utnesil which refrains me from recalling the aroma of brown rice my friend cooked.

    6. I like sound of chirping crickets as it reminds me of how coins once used to clink in grandpa's coat and admiration in his eyes everytime I told him about gold in our array.

    7. I am not lazy but weak. I am weak for, every spider web in corners which are abandoned since a year and for that baby lizard who grew a little tail last week.

    8. I eat my lips everytime dad brings up the past and you lean with your elbow on his shoulder because his knucles become weak and his voice starts to break when he sees my tears.

    9. He manages to score a perfect score but I am always seven places behind him. My ribs ache when you remark the fault is mine, it isn't.

    10. I can never trust uncle around me. Please understand why I get nervous every morning he shaves his beard and collects the extensions from basin.

    11. I hope you could see that my cell phone is the only reason why I am holding up because she praises me every day even if I solve only five numericals in three hours.

    Maa, I hope you never see this because I painted my nails today.

    I painted my nails| 25.09.21

  • natasha_a 18w

    How are you?

    I don't even know why people are liking this. I am just ranting.

    Read More

    I feel good today.

    I am glad I woke up early and listened to my physics teacher patiently, never knew he was this great with it and while making notes, I realised my handwriting is pretty good and maybe I should appreciate it more.

    Went out with my mother's friends and their kids today, I think I attended such gathering after a year or so, my social anxiety used to take best of me. I finally talked with my best friend, we were so distant past months.

    I am most surprised about the fact that I attended my chemistry class with utmost concentration and even asked doubts. My teacher used to say, she never knew if I attended a class or not. Chemistry is pretty interesting, by the way, I was just running from it.

    For the first time, my dad complimented my dressing style and I felt so confident that I think I might wear the same outfit tomorrow. Don't worry, I will wash it before.

    And the thing that I am finally writing after such long. It's getting comfortable, my eyes doesn't hurt anymore. I feel genuinely sleepy these days, glad I am not sleeping just to imagine myself in fake scenarios.

    I feel exceptionally well today and scared too. It feels too much to be mine.


  • natasha_a 20w

    /She wanted none of the days to end, and it was always with disappointment that 'she watched the darkness stride forward.'/

    -Markus Zusak, 'The book thief'


    I tried.


    Read More

    But what colour are you, my friend?

    Is it auburn, my mother drinks since
    dad left to heaven while saving me?

    Or is it red that my sister spent seven
    years in prison to repent his life for?

    Is it crimson that tints her cheek when
    she holds her mother unaware of you?

    Or is it pink that delusions a new lover
    before a hurricane abandons his home?

    I have searched for you in every brown
    in a hope that you will be sitting at veins.

    But, every time I step on them, the creaks
    reminds me, they acquainted with you.

    I have painted my organs with darkest of
    black in a hope that you will find me here.

    But seems like she really loves black that
    'she watched the darkness stride forward.'

    Is it yellow that van ate in order to raise
    his spirits, contrary to being cheerful?

    Or is it blue, the facade that still holds
    my friend's marks when she jumped off?

    Is it orange that sets every night to kill
    my favourite wallflowers by the road?

    Or is it green, settling on a river that
    once captivated 'ocean's'eyes but left.

    I have searched for you in every purple
    my husband crafted over me last week.

    But it seems you hate it because every
    time he winces, it doesn't weaken me.

    I have tried every greens and blues and
    greys in a hope this will fade one day.

    But what colour are you, my friend?
    I am tired of seeing myself in white.

    But what colour|

  • natasha_a 27w

    @the_lost_melody This is for you Di❤
    I cant really thank you enough for everything.

    @writersbay Told you I had one person to write about!

    /The lines in brackett are from Badr Shakir Al-Sayyab/


    Read More

    She is fire in lanterns leading home,
    magic in words, syrah in pain. She is
    glimpse of paradise, soft pat at my
    back and shelter in drenching rain.

    She is courage in battles, daffodils
    rising at horizon. She is starlight in
    dark, butterflies guiding to the exit
    and glimmering beauty of night.

    She is zephyr of tea gardens, engulf-
    -ing the tress to sleep. She is ground
    for autumn leaves, traces of eternity
    and warmth to demons that weep.

    /Her eyes are like palm-groves refreshed
    by Dawn's breath or terraces the moon
    leave behind/

    She is camellia of a mothers crown, a
    fading unicorn in heavens. She is the
    pink tint in rues, scars of battles and
    tape of bravery that hold the weapon.

    She is ecstatic twilight, the beauty
    and the voice of moon giggling above.
    She is an angel for devil for once she
    taught him how to love.


  • natasha_a 27w

    @still_fragile This ones for you Fray!
    I wanted to say that you are very strong and I wish you power in everything.

    @/writersbay I still have one more person to write about XD

    /The words in brackett are from movie Lord of Rings/


    Read More

    She is phoenix engulfed in flames,
    the bearer of gladiolus flox. She is
    the spark of ocean pearls, the crown
    of daisies kept hidden in the box.

    She has been a warrior since long,
    fighting to protect her fort. She is
    the song of willows, firefly of hope
    with a bruised heart coerce of gold.

    /You fool. No man can kill me.
    Die. Now.
    'But I am no man'/

    She is walking on black porcelain with
    tulips rising from her veins. She is a
    river for quenching thirst and the
    strength of kingdom that falls in rain.

    She is an angel with tint of madness,
    invites her demons to dance every night.
    She is desperation of dusk and dawn,
    the excitement in its first flight.

    To all the nightmares that have ever
    haunted her, mind your swords because
    she is coming for you for she ain't a
    victim but a survivor.


  • natasha_a 27w

    @_firefly Here's to you!
    I tried my best and I know it ain't enough.

    @/writersbay Thanks for this. She is one of the best humans here.

    /The words in brackett are by Farouq Jwaydeh/


    Read More

    'I love her.'

    She is a hope in abandoned house,
    zenith followed by solace. A refuge
    for both demons and madness with
    freckles of insanity that glow her face.

    She is warrior of the kingdom which
    stand on rues of eternity. An angel
    of history, painted in lavenders that
    grow out of her kingdom's felicity.

    Her brown orbs radiate warmth as if
    the sun is reflecting on honey creaking
    from pine. She is the melody of ocean,
    murmuring to the other side of moon.

    /And if devil was to ever see her, he'd
    kiss her eyes and repent/

    She is the classics of 1870s, the soft
    patters of winters. She is wind that
    gushes through the windows, a bird
    who chirps peace to your nerves.

    You say you love her, but do you?
    The way she does,
    as dusk kisses the stars to sleep and
    as prairies who sing for dawn to keep
    him accompany.