Dear Diary
12 am, she sleeps,
the one I call my mom.
And then from 1 to 4,
I am rapidly torn.My mother has no clue,
God bless her lack of ears.
I scream at the top of my voice,
While he savors my tears.
A Confession Letter
They know not what you are to me. May be we are no one to each other, for them and for you as well. But for me, you are the giver, pleaser of my soul. I keep on stealing glances from you, trying hard not to let you know that I am doing so. I have filled my cups with the pearls of your glances. They are enough to make me high or get drunk. If accidentally I cross my path with you, you wave at me and smile. My body fills with warmth then. I could feel my heart throbbing, wanting to run out from my own self. I did steal the color of the sunset from your cheeks to my very own, when you smiled at your lady love. You give me the state of nothingness. Continue reading “A Confession Letter”
Raunak Agarwal 