Should I Like Post A Poem Im Not Very Proud Of But Has Some Stuff That I Think I Have Never Written Like

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

Consent

Consent is what calls for untoward

When we lose our minds

In hopes of not losing them;

It rights people to perform harshness

With grace, and turn the blame on us.

Consent is nothing but a web

Of lies and unjustness,

Felt heavy at the moment.

It's nice to ask

but never to approve.

It's a web, again.

A web of the unconscious in

the moment of liveliness

- @akratiisalive

taglist and transcript under the cut.

(send an ask to be added or removed.)

AN EXCURSION TO THE ENIGMA OF HINDSIGHT OF HIDING

when the dusk sets upon another day’s palpable roof, i climb the stairs to feel the cold in the clothes. the chill is nothing but another victim of nature’s pocket folds, another one that doesn’t last but occurs each day, on the stroke. “i rise, i rise, i rise”, i say when the sun is not around to make my way. i fail, i fail, i fail, i feel another eternity of a daughter’s fate. //the clamp of these adjoined roofs reeks of a damp shoulder that rubs on yours. i could see our neighbor’s television set, the men with their bar nibbles in the kind of bowl that i wouldn’t let another soul take out the crockery cabinet. stumbling in between the clotheslines, i call upon God to patrol the men in hiding.// i larp as another victim of the menstrual cycle- a lifeless frame made of the red; a work-in-progress. debugging the long-believed myth of a woman making a man, i climb the stairs two at a time. i am trying to open myself for the future, replicating my body’s instincts, too soon to not last long, like an unripe banana. // with hardly any antennas in sight to disrupt, i pick up grits to throw at our neighbor’s. they have held me too dear, caressed my head so much that now my hair is falling flat. and i cannot be God’s another child who loses beauty because the beholder’s eyes held them too tight. // but instead, i drop them on the street, hoping to witness some blood when a head crashes into them, hoping to witness some human in these beings. the thoughts have no end for their completion is symbiotic to the noiseless walls. the people in this area have given up on feeling pretty & i am thinking of applying the shoplifted Lakme’s blood-red lipstick. // each day, the covet to scare takes up a new member’s place in our house & my mother is falling short of the food to serve. each day, i give up another hair to look pretty when i comb. each day, i dream of fetching those china bowls and hiding them into the trap of nature’s pocket folds.

taglist:

@ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @bedfordhealyx @it-is-what-it-it-iss @kajukatliontop @nochampagneonlyproblems @champagnesrush @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad @dehydratedsucculent @parihumay @jules-hazard @eveesque @wigilda @theazurepoet @cloudlessnightssleeplessfight @catguinstudies @a-smart-dumbass

hey guys! how are y’all? hope august is being nice to you. haven’t been able to post something in a while now because not sure what is happening with my writing. but don’t want this blog dying like me (literally sitting here, wrapped in a blanket with a bundle of tissue papers on either side because apparently u can catch severe cold in august!!!!). anyways, wanted to tell y’all that i’m very grateful for all the love that you have shown in these past months. love reading your tags in the reblogs. my heart just goes💓💓💓💓. would love to hear your questions, random stuff, poetry prompts or basically anything. my tag list requests are always open as well. drop by in the inbox/asks sometime! - akrati, xx

the faces on cardboard stand so still, so stubborn;

some crooked, grinning, others flushed, skinny.

they perch so distinct yet so similar. so alive in the moment, dead soon after.

what do they say about the bodies they are attached to?

how spontaneous but motionless, such misdirects they create!

some jaws clenched, some eyes flashing red;

they froze the moment but fabricating the abstract sense.

after some sixteen nights,

the bodies live vicariously through the stationary smirks,

touching each other’s arms, rejoicing in

the nihilistic environment they concocted once.

its been several years since they faced the flash,

they have propagated the boards, one for each soul.

now the memory serves only when one roams about the storeroom.

so they do, if roam not often, but once a month.

“the cardboard emits different reflections”, each mutters.

time changed their vision and their power to resist what it brought-

faces on cardboards stand so still, so stubborn,

some crooked, grinning, flushing fiendish forms.

- @akratiisalive

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:((? )

omg hi akrati how’re you

amber!!! hellow hi how have you been? im good just logged into this account a couple of days ago ( i shifted accounts) i miss this place so much aha bc of uni been kinda offline etc its been great what about u what are u upto these days?

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:

Eulogy from The Dead

I have been meaning to form coherent sentences/ for a month now,/ which is to say i died/ a month ago,/ which is to say i was seen/ since my beginning,/ which is to say i was / grieved too,/ in a way that/ didn’t exceed my expectations,/ which is to say/ the people who touched my carcass/ might still be breathing/ with a/ washed- off sense / of myself,/ which is to say/ i am alive.

taglist under the cut (ask to be added or removed.):

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