rishavreads

If you could permanently ban a word from general usage, which one would it be? Why? Better This word always shows the comparison.

Feeling it, The Home

Everything is different here, something real.People care,they love.The sun rises early and sleeps early.I am happy.No nightouts, no long drives.How differently we would spend the years.No coffees here,no regrets too.Here, the smell is different, like something blooming,Something like peace.The sound of the air, denoting that time is dying, we are living, here.The wind, that blowsContinue reading “Feeling it, The Home”

Too Much

Too selfish, too needyEmotional, too much.Crybaby, tooToo skinny, too short.Weak, too muchEffeminate, too.Not like the other boysToo mean, too disrespectful.Ungrateful, tooConfused, Not enough.How can I be the both, too much .

Again, You.

Yeah yeah, I will move on.The uncontrollable habit of retrospection will fade, eventually.I won’t let this feeling to be chore. Yeah, you must have found serenity.The sorrowed heart found somewhere to stay,You started to believe that peace can be found in people.You didn’t stayed here, my heart was a sky. Yeah, I am also fixed,ByContinue reading “Again, You.”

Vipassana- The Feeling

I was aloneBut for the first time, I didn’t feel like itNature was my companyI woke up with the chirps of birdsI slept with the swish of the windNature was my companyFor the first timeI sang with the birdsI danced with the treesWhispered to the mirrorI have learned, things that really matteredI felt my skin,Continue reading “Vipassana- The Feeling”

While they falling

And when they are falling, I tend to rise from love And rise from attachments too.I still love the sunsets This time I see hope, Not pain. Still I read books Yes but not about heartaches.I keep flowing while they are drowning In love , I keep soaring.I look at the mirror This time IContinue reading “While they falling”

I am dying to be myself

A guy, unapologetic. With many flaws.Tired and free from relationships.Maybe cold and wild .Away from expectations and with attachments.Sometimes careless. Messy That me I am dying to be myself. Private. On the terrace, talking to the moon. With the books. Restless. Maybe on the woods. StuckOpera on loop on headphones. On a crowd. Maybe misunderstood.ThatContinue reading “I am dying to be myself”

Not Me

I sit on a terrace with a cigarette thinking how I lost myself. I look at the stars and moon but you, you are everywhere. In the sky, somewhere around the stars, I search for your reflection. I search myself in you, on my loneliness. I’m still there; on the moment we share with eachContinue reading “Not Me”