Transcript And Tag List Under The Cut! (ask To Be Added):

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

should i like post a poem im not very proud of but has some stuff that i think i have never written like or wait to have a mentally deranged absolutely soul crushing experience and then write about it and post its watered down version?

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

special thanks to @fawadkhangf for titling this piece!

transcript and taglist under the cut!

Tender Curses

Tenderness is the wound I chisel out of you/ when we scrape the light off of us in the shower/ in the mornings enclosed with curtains drawn./ I sing to the beats of the water that falls without touching you.// In ache when we join fingers to your delight, my lover,/ you curse the thumb that circles my palm./ In ways when you whisper of the lack of flesh in this world,/ I hear your impetrations of succumbing to a child’s sky.// When after the evening dream in the purple, the moon turns into a star,/ I sit on your collarbones, you weigh my scars./ We weave of all the ways ocean will never turn against the shore;/ the morning contrives the lumps in our throat.// From the lies with which we draw our quilts,/ you reek of tenderness, I chant your sins./ After the morning tea when you talk of numbers and the deaths in a far-off land,/ I chisel out your wounds of tenderness and carpent our hourglass.

taglist: @king-of-knives @a-moonlit-poet @bedfordhealyx @it-is-what-it-it-iss @kajukatliontop @nochampagneonlyproblems @fawadkhangf @mygayisdogtoo @lilhappylilsad @cherryblossom @parihumay @jules-hazard @eveesque @wigilda @theazurepoet @ghostfilesbish @penguinstudiesstuff @a-smart-dumbass @anarchist-therapist @intoxicatednits @rustyswingset

mother, o mother! by @akratiisalive, published in ayaskala magazine

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?)

transcript: hands to my dreary dreams.

i have been shedding skins since last August. consider me an onion, your favourite vegetable. don’t put me in water. i need to shed your tears.// the dreams are dreary like cold milk or uncooked soup. the tepid air in the kitchen, under the sheets disgorges a burnt out fire, never a homely warmth. but in this one bedroom kitchen apartment, they heap incompleteness yet they are consumed like your favourite soup.// i want you to reach into my throat, past the lips that have never been swayed. reach out to the words i hoard, my secret stash, the ones that even eyes fail to convey.// reach out to me and i will meet you halfway in my sleep. all i do now is dream. the wishful thinking is not about staying still but moving quietly in my sleep. and letting the grass strike my face as i bend my limbs to mould into the tire. i am reaching out to every six year-old who played with me but i have replaced my body with a tall child.// i want to stand still, drive a knife to make myself two. a daughter, now let me be two cells too. mitosis: i want to get doubled, not divided into halves like my father.// untangle my earphones. are you watering my plants? the sun will incinerate their phantom vibrants for even clouds deceive when salt of the earth doesn’t hit the mark.// i have buried my grief in my mother’s lap. now, she has ceased to exist. meet me halfway in her shawl. i will wrap my fingers around yours. and in time, my windows will crawl back to our home, their edges engraved with her shawl.

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

@ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @rottensummerlove @ch3rryblo55oms @nochampagneonlyproblems @champagne-rush @mydogisgaytoo @floralbeast @it-is-what-it-it-iss @lilhappylilsad @hoeliterature @kajukatliontop

transcript and tag-list under the cut!

still in these streets, water doesn’t wash up/ the clothes on the clotheslines/ the denial in sun’s warmth is visible at noon/ when it’s invisible in its own light/ the language of all is hurling to their/ destination’s child. // still in these streets the girl runs around/ in the brisk of moonlight/ the helium in her brother’s balloons/ comes at the cost of God’s shrilling cries./ all her lovers hop away from her/ favourite rhymes.// still in these streets the dogs pet/ their parents with a wry smile/ cigarettes fall in the grass after hushing the conversations of lovers around midnight/ films reel at the town hall/ haunting the elder’s sight. // still in these streets the clouds/ don’t hold back tears when the young dies/ still the the general store doesn’t open all night/ still in these streets, my parents walk alike.

taglist: @ruins-of-heart @a-moonlit-poet @bedfordhealyx @it-is-what-it-it-iss @kajukatliontop @nochampagneonlyproblems @sifaaarish @mydogisgaytoo @lilhappylilsad @cherryblossom @parihumay @jules-hazard @eveesque @wigilda @theazurepoet @cloudlessnightssleeplessfight @catguinstudies @a-smart-dumbass @anarchist-therapist @sweetbutwhateverbaby

please feel free to send an ask to be added or removed!<3

oh my god thank you so much for thinking of my art like that you’re such a sweet soul hugging you rn💗

I wanna straight up absorb some of y’all’s art styles into my cerebral cortex via osmosis

oh my god i was just thinking about you yesterday! how're you?

hi heylo replying so late i uninstalled tumblr idk why mental health actually got more fucked up bc of that. anyways im back now. back for good i guess. in general, im doing well. mostly distracted ( happy, i mean), but then a sensational amount of suffering happens and im normal again. currently im doing really bad lol im at my parents. planning to leave in 10 hours. i will be better then :)

how are you? i miss talking to you, even those little conversations. i hope you’re eating well, and resting too. please reply back if you’re still active, would love to hear from you. 💗