I hate cold coffee

I hate cold coffee

It sounds like a small thing. A distracted habit. But one morning, I looked at that third cold cup of the day and I realized... it wasn't about the coffee. I was trapped.

The Girl I Forgot I Was

This is the story of how I’m reclaiming my identity, shedding the 'should-be’s and stepping into a brand new chapter defined by me, for me.

Some nights are heavier

After rainy days

Honeyed orbs

Honey eyes like honeyed orbs gaze upon me Upon the mire that rain has made Unwittingly you Made me feel sour Your voice, smoky, heard when golden hour is born The sun reached us Yet you reached not Apparently You wore me as an amulet To save you every time I am but a myth, Whilst you a tangled mess A tempest in the mist

Paracosm

as she lies on the moon wondering if she ever passed in your mind even like a blink of an eye or even like a blow of a whiff they say love is a curse she believed that she is cursed oh what a curse it is to be anonymously existing In someone’s world Like emptiness He has no idea That she is a twinkling fairy and he is in a paracosm in her lifeless mind