• moitreyee 24w

    All these years, I baked myself an ache
    as an origami drenched in love, deep.
    When nightmares were the ones to wreck
    my pastel hours of dreamy sleep.

    The glass walls of your castle stared
    as parts of me melted in your sight
    And phrases stumbled as vellichor shared
    a policy of the petrichor in fight.

    These glasses were like people, gleam;
    they stared but couldn't hear,
    no matter how much I scream !
    they stood as shades of naivety in glare.

    All these years, I'd found myself awake
    when your voices ran past my veins.
    For oft, when you misspelled a forever, fake
    Straight faces met your twisted lanes.

    ©Moitreyee Bhaduri

    @writersnetwork @miraquill #pod
    Thanks for the Pod mirakee.

    Read More


    "Irregularity is a rhythm of emotions
    yet regularity's a lane for the living dead."