Akratiisalive - Mad Heart, Be Brave

transcript and taglist under the cut (send an ask to be added or removed):

Likes and REBLOGS are more than appreciated!

Home- wrecker

home-wrecker! your devoid/ awaits my freedom./ seventeen and sucking the dirt/ out of your newspapers:/ annihilating a mother’s only successor.// the aftertaste of your/ sweet breakfast: there/ is another political argument/ i do not want to fight./ your lips so unsealed,/ i almost divide.// the khaki pants,/ the leather chappals;/ in your dreamland,/ i am burrowing the glass dirt./ in your dreamland,/ you are excavating the cause’s birth.// i see your fingers placed/ evenly on the knife,/ a firm grip on the pink onion,/ too tight sometimes./ the stretch of the thumb/ is eluding the blade;/ the blade so clear/ we prick each other’s face. // an apple pudding,/ a national plight,/ i heard you singing/ in the shower tonight,/ i heard you escaping/ from the waters tonight. // i unmake your bed before/ the bell chimes 8./ your silver- worn hands/ hold me at a caressing stake./ the dreams,/ if not forgotten,/ hold a near distant reality:/ i am holding your breath in my wake.

taglist

@ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @rottensummerlove @it-is-what-it-it-iss @kajukatliontop @nochampagneonlyproblems @champagnesrush @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad @ch3rryblo55oms @jules-hazard @eveesque @wigilda @theazurepoet @star-dust-2317 @catguin-the-kitty-cat @kittywritesmistress @a-smart-dumbass( not working?)

hey guys! hope you all are doing good and/or manifesting the good times. i just wanted to notify you that since my exams will be starting from next week and the coming months this year will be very busy, i may have to go on a semi-hiatus. which means, i will be posting my works but not very regularly and might not be active as much, but just for a couple of months. posts will be queued. since my blog is not going anywhere, you can always wander around my works, maybe reblog them if you like them.

i also have been very creatively deprived recently. but, have been trying to cherish it as well. that being said, i wanted to ask if you guys would like to read something on your prompts? the prompt could be anything ranging from prose to poetry, from specifically instructed starting and/or ending to a loose motif, from imagines of some alternate reality to the mundanity of our lives. by all means, you can go wild in my ask box and post as many as you want, whenever you want. it might take me a little while to get to them but i will do my best to meet your expectations. i hope you drop by and say hello!

-best,

akrati xx

(i am so scared about this post i know hardly anybody cares but i wanted to as well)

tag list under the cut (shoot an ask to be added or removed!):

@ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @rottensummerlove @it-is-what-it-it-iss @kajukatliontop @nochampagneonlyproblems @champagnesrush @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad @ch3rryblo55oms @jules-hazard @eveesque @wigilda @theazurepoet @star-dust-2317 @catguin-the-kitty-cat @kittywritesmistress @a-smart-dumbass (why isn't this working)

new poem today besties?😳😳

A Ritual of Eternities by @akratiisalive, published in wine cellar press

transcript and tag list under the cut-

A Ritual of Eternities

On his Sunday mornings, I bury my prayers/in our backyard to remain intact while the bells toll,/ reminding myself breathing can exist outside of the four walls./ The cryptic of morning dew has far disappeared &/ multitudes of his kitchen rattle have ceased like time.// I lean away from my sight to find his ankles-/ heavy and wretched on the stones./ A breeze of autumn disposition has come/ to greet my morning breath/ & I let out a hushed scoff on nature’s humbleness/that still tends to his falsehood of preaching despair.// He drags the metal chair cutting the hymns enough for us/ to realize the betrayal we commit every seventh day in our chambers./ I plate his killings of plants and eggs to assure our fasting hunger,/ & His shadows cut through between our sunlight/ marking the graveyard of unheard words.// He draws his fork together with the knife as I pour honey/ as if wanting to weigh out the sweet/ in the bittersweet aftermath of our morning rituals./ We count our shared minutes in our separate countable eternities./ I swallow my eyes with the poison he pours in my chalice of wine.// On my Sunday mornings, he buries me with his forks and knives/ & I remain intact- torn away- but intact in his intestines./The cryptic of morning dew is buried deep within his fingernails/ and the multitudes of his kitchen rattle have ceased to exist.

tag list:

@ruins-of-heart @some-broken-words @rottensummerlove @it-is-what-it-is @floralbeast @nochampagneonlyproblems @riskanothergoodbye13 @hoeliterature @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad (why isnt this working ugh)

hey there! 💙💜 i like your poetry immensely, could you add me to your taglist? :)

omg hi!! i love your work too ur blog seems such a safe space. thank you so much it’d be my pleasure to add u<333

water seepage;

thump-thump! in the box.

her ears drowned,

she shifted in her slumber.

in came a blow

as its wings swung by;

her satin shorts shivered,

she lifted her grandma’s spirited quilt.

calming the horripilations,

she could sniff the old lady’s cinnamon tea.

though the summers called for chills,

humanly warmth was indispensable .

- @akratiisalive

I read the words you spilled with your ink.

The kalam wasn’t yours, you felt your words were stolen

from generations of speakers and coherent concepts that

you have been reading since your father first gave you his mother’s death book.

You never took my breaths away,

I let your imagery sink in my skin

like a child entering adolescence,

I felt incomplete.

You complied them for her-

enchanting, like waters falling from a height in a river,

You distinguished and tied her together

as I sat reading. She was such a goddess-

You were in her feet, you merely described her arms

and if I were to offer you mine-

Ink spilled just like yours- you wouldn’t come.

You believed in one of a kind

And we shared dispositions.

- @akratiisalive

Heyaa bestiee how ya doing?? Been so long we haven't talked

Sending ur way much love and care ❤💕💖🌸🌻🌹🌷🌼💐🤗

Also, as much as i enjoy reading your work i freaking love the way you speak.

Take care ly❣

romaaaaaaaaa how r u? how have u been? u won’t believe this but yesterday only i was thinking about u and i was hoping we could have met on sept 4 :( but um we will meet soon i hope. i have been okay-ish. still processing what game cbse is playing with us now plus these covid cases are making everything seem so uncertain but fingers crossed, hoping for the best for all of us. thank you so much all credit goes to the ones who have so generously put their efforts into me aka the teachers. hope u eat something fun today and we experience rain!! xx

on his day and mine

taglist under the cut:

@ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @rottensummerlove @champagnesrush @kajukatliontop @jules-hazard @eveesque @ch3rryblo55oms @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad @it-is-what-it-it-iss @parihumay ( if yk their moved blog, do inform!)

transcript and tag list under the cut! (ask to be added):

i am being in one but many forms

remember when it was about screaming once in two months? when i was not a big girl but my father was still old? when all the cheap porcelain was the centre of attention in our house? &, when there were no dolls but i wasn’t allowed to cross the road on my own?// i. the growing is like a venus flytrap: two-fold./ evil, like a fortnight before spring./ spring, like summer’s step-child./ when i remember/ my 8 years old shadow: i was becoming./ now, at 16, i want to be seen.// ii. the mirroring of another’s solitude was a/ foot less deep when i handed them my chocolate. now, i am making bread but to never consume. now, i don’t measure sugar/ or hear the alarm./ if it weren’t for the cries for 8 pm tv shows,/ i’d still be a little more tenuous./ i think a girl starts rotting when/ she feels blood in her body.// iii. not to say that i can lie today, but/ there was not much to lie about back then./ i broke a glass./ but another hand searched for the shards too./ and also! i never had to lie!/ my brother announced my mishaps/ before my mother even approached me.// iv. today, i do not lie on the ground/ but rush to the washroom to sit and stare./ i feel content when i grit my teeth/ & i don’t feel them breaking/ because,/ i always closed my mouth when i peed./ oh, don’t you know? my mother said/ it’s bad for your teeth when you let them be/ in the restroom. it weakens them./ “as if teeth are something that could be/ weaken! as if teeth have beards!”// v. to write nothing everyday is not a logic/ i want to normalise. but the thing is,/ it starts to feel ecstatic/ when i see a mirror & i stand to stare./ another being. same as me./ i exist,/ two fold: skin and bones./ tenuous: a rope tied to throat./ i exist./ i didn’t rot, i exist.

taglist: @ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @rottensummerlove @it-is-what-it-it-iss @kajukatliontop @nochampagneonlyproblems @champagnesrush @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad @ch3rryblo55oms @parihumay @jules-hazard @eveesque @wigilda @theazurepoet @star-dust-2317 @catguin-the-kitty-cat @a-smart-dumbass( still not working:((? )