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I was 13, when I watched“ always” turn into “ almost”I was 14, when I realisedForever is a jokeI was 15, overthinking Bout things ,That never really happenedI was 16, Searching for woundsthat weren’t mineI was 17, when I apologisedFor simply existingI am 18, when I drown in guiltJust for the way I loveI don’t […]

What an irony it isTo be a roseadored by the crowdAnd yet cry for the oneWho walks past youAs if you’re js a thornHe calls the stars in my eyes ordinaryAnd what even is beauty?If the one I crave forIs blind to itBut how do I bend someone’s eyesTo see something they refuse toBut I’ve

100 doubts, 100 drafts, wondered if my words were ever good enough. words have always been my safe place when the world felt a little too heavy. i am beyond thrilled to share with you all that my first book is finally out ,from scribbling unfinished poems on my notebook pages to holding my first

my heart trembled when i heard the news words even my heart had to refuse that mothers scream swallowed by nights when the uniform arrives at the door soaked in grief ever more than before the world moves on with another goodbye but those families left to forever cry who reach on borders without a

The empires I built from wordsShattered before the dawnOh but we’re poetsWe can only smilewith a thread tucked into our lipsHolding those million storms behindHappiness is an illusionOut of our reachWe breathe with ink in our veinsOur pain is never OUR painIt’s a borrowed currencyFrom the people who leftAnd every word we write is a