When I was breaking apart in the arms of heartache, unable to breathe and on the verge of giving up on life, you mercilessly told me to get my shit together; you kept opening door after door for me, cause with you, there's no end to dreams and dreaming.
Cold/Mess The first time I heard cold/mess by Prateek Kuhad, I - rather we- were a bridge waiting to collapse. It was everything I wanted to tell you during those cold December nights. If things unsaid could be packaged with love and a bit of heartache and sent across, this song would be it. But, you didn't listen. And two days … Continue reading Cold/Mess
"Maybe, you are just afraid of love, because you haven't experienced it." I take a long sip from my bottle, then bend down to stuff the bottle and my clothes into the duffel bag. Ever since Sam and I met at the gym two weeks back and hit it off instantly, he's been on a … Continue reading Questions
Red Flags I pack your stuffs for the fifteenth time. Your t-shirts, your gifts, your letters, the remnants of the last cigarette we smoked, one matchbox, everything goes into the plain old cardboard box that resembles me in its brokenness. I pause for a second. There are so many thoughts getting tangled with one another … Continue reading Red Flags
Home after roughly three months, I hear the front door creak in protest. Has it come to terms with me being away for so long that it doesn't want to handle another change? I notice that the colour of the wooden furniture has dulled, the polish from years ago has started peeling off at the … Continue reading Coming Back Home