Everything we were

Of the earthquake we were, I remained as the crevice. Exposed. With that sound cracking me from inside. Although maybe it were my ribs while breathing. Of the storm we were, I remained as the drop, that became big like a pond, that nobody knew, but that was deeper and not just a reflection. Of…

Heartbeat

If  i could be anything other than me, I’d be your heartbeat..   By Anjum Choudhary Read more texts by this author

Its not as dark as you think…

Not everything is rosy in life, not always ‘it’s okay’ works .. Not everytime ‘let’s move on’ have the same impact .. It’s not that easy .. Everyone is different and everything takes time .. No emotion will leave until it completes its phase, it’s time within us .. We can’t move on to next…

Me. Love. 

Art is creation, is the self-expression of the misunderstood. Art is suffering, some days it transforms into spring flowers and winter laughs, but some days it remains suffering. Mirrors are a trembling reminder of war. Personal and sentimental. Loneliness. Sometimes they are your only friend. Water fills our soul, sleep reduces the pain in it….

It’s 4 a.m. and I’ve lost my sense of time

Originally posted in Spanish on our site Letras & Poesía It’s four o’clock in the morning. I have lost my sense of time, I don’t know how many hours I’ve already spent here sitting on the floor, writing in my computer, but all I know is I’ve never felt like this before. Tranquility reigns all around…