Bruises and Flowers

I’d get bruised again and again on the same place. I’d come back home to my mother’s mumbles and cusses about my bad habit of falling on my knees. Other results of contusion were not just discoloration of my skin but also an effusion of unabated hysteria mixed with shame for making public my inadequacies- […]

Stop Being A Sea.

Meeting you would be like facing a storm, like fighting the aggression of the sea . Like wambling to it’s whimsical persecutions without being offered any explanation for trying. . It’s clear you don’t trust me with you tragedy, your secrets, your unwillingness to confine, your guardedness when I arrive. . I’m herr not to […]


Arrival. . The journey left me jaded. . I went to pick up things to use them as copiously as salt and pepper. . I came back with a baggage that feels like dead weight tied my ankle. . My unwillingness to own my belongings could eclipse my sanity any moment from now. . But, […]