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The Writer

She gently removed the color off her lips.
The kohl was left untouched.
As she peeled her mask, she thought about her day.
She was used to being ogled at. 
Her oblong ear hoops did the trick.,
Suddenly she wondered if she was right enough. 
Just then, a few pages of her work blew in the wind.
She ran to collect them. 
Even if no one read them, forget publishing, she would write.
She knew she was born to write.  


IceMaiden said…
This made me smile. :)

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Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.


The eyes searched someone. The one she could run to at times of need. In someone’s lap, she would pour out all her troubles.
Nobody came.  She grew up, rimmed her eyes with kohl. But they could never hide her tears.
No one came when her soul was ripped apart. No one heard her cries. No one mourned her loss.
After  a while, she thought that tears were a part of the eyes.

All Consuming Love

Dear You,

Looks like I have found you.

In the depths of my love, I notice your smile.

Yes, the one you flash after that brief moment of joy.

I feel your fingers entwined in mine. All the time.

Your eyes speak to mine, asking me questions.

Remember the first time I told you of my affection and my afflictions ?

You must know this. You consume my thoughts, time and grief.

Glad to have met you.