Travel bird.

Instagram handle: @myspirals


Go to places,
Find mountains that remind you of people,
And seas that make you forget everything.
Discover old streets that whisper stories,
and broken buildings that look like broken bones.
Sleep out the day, learn to love the dark.
Sleep out the night, learn to love the light.
Close your eyes and feel the wind,
and rustle like a tree under the burning sun.
Giggle under the stars,
and among the ruins,
Just like the people who lived there
A long time ago,
probably did.
Paint your passports,
and cut in your bucket list,
instead of your wrists.


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Previous post: Sober.
Related post: It’s okay.

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Home and him.

It has been a while since I had posted something I’ve written, and I really wanted to. The Whiskey Words is still going on. Tomorrow is the last date to submit, though. Enjoy!


I’ve been asked
time and time again,
How can a person be your home?
Now, how do I explain this?

When I am with him,
I wear comfy pajamas and absolutely no make up.
I confine to the wall of his arms,
and cry with my face buried in his shoulder
like a kid holding a pillow to muffle his screams.
His dimples are the trampoline to my fingers.
Every time Lust and love,
his best-friends, and our guests
come over,
I dress up fancy and serve myself.
Honestly, I just sleep all day in his arms.
And even though I need no-one,
He protects me anyway.
He makes sure I walk on the right side of the street,
And that my hair is tucked behind my ear.
Home isn’t built in a day,
and neither were we.
Like wizards without their chosen wands,
And Ross without Rachel,
I am alright without him,
but completely empty inside.
If I was a goddamn house,
he would be my furniture.
Like a sailor on a quivering boat,
in a black night storm,
I miss him when he isn’t around.

What else do you get homesick for,
if not a home?
And I love him so much,
with all my heart.
Home is where the heart is.

So yeah, he is my home.
Two arms, wavy hair, brown eyes,
breathy voice and a musical heartbeat.


Also, I have thought about doing a little something on the side. I’ve written an erotica and published it on Wattpad (you can read it even if you don’t have an account), and might convert it into a series if you guys like it. Do read and respond by leaving comments here or on wattpad. Go there by clicking : here.

Whisky Words: Project (9)

This is Submission NINE of The Whiskey Words. The Whiskey Words is a writing project (and a giveaway), and if you’d like to participate, here are the rules.


Illumine the stars

Hers
Is a restless soul in the black abyss of a beautiful world.
A world where heartbeats are numb in the crowds of screaming rivals
Her soul, a misfit for rhyme and reason
Because the pictures speak to it.
Her eyes search a different truth
Because the phrases mean nothing to them
Her mind seeks rational meaning
Because the sophistication means eternity to it.
Her soul longs an unknown silence.
So when the night sky kisses the sea,
She embarks upon a journey,
With the stars on her back.
One by one,
She illumines the stars,
makes her mark in the shape of a constellation,
a perpetual path,
leading to a shooting star.

– Himna Khan (blog)

Tipsy.

Do participate in the giveaway. For more information, click here.
Also, if you really like this post, do re-blog it to your site, it would mean a ton.


I’m a little tipsy,
From the day I tasted your love.
I wasn’t a fan of cheesy one-liners,
or fancy anniversaries.
I didn’t believe in wanting to hold a hand,
even four hours past midnight.
I could not even imagine intimacy,
and lust with my three A.M. shoulder.
I did not think I could be,
A Cinderella and an Anastasia.

You like sunny afternoons,
and me in skirts.
You love my Nutella eyes,
and my tan lines.
You’re -I’ve got no other way to say this- hot.
You open doors,
And still let me pay my bills.
You’ve got my back,
and my behind (*ass).
Do you have any idea what you did to me?

I actually miss you every night.
I hold my pillow against my chest,
As if it was you.
I reach the coffee place way before you do.
I wake up early to watch you sleep.
I do the cheesiest things
that I’d never imagine myself doing.
And I’m pretty sure of one more thing that I do.
When it’s four hours past midnight,
My fingers do latch onto yours, right?


Previous post : Labels of the human market.
Related post : Kiss me slow.

Friends, if you like reading my work, do share it with your friends (on whatever social media you deem appropriate).

Fairy-tale love.

Friends, if you like reading my work, do share it with your friends (on whatever social media you deem appropriate). Also, Happy Valentine’s Day!


“Someday you”ll be old enough to start reading fairy-tales again.” – C.S. Lewis

He was real. She didn’t think he would be.
The first time he laughed,
it was like fireworks in the night sky.
She could look at him and
see all the hues of emotions that colored his skin
as his lips curled from one end to another.
She could hear the waterfalls crashing hard against the broken stones
as he giggled like a child who’d just found a new toy.
She felt his chuckle spread warmth to her cheeks and
the corner of her eyes creased
like the white shirt he was wearing.
It was beautiful.
He was beautiful.

He always kept his word.
He made the chocolate chip cookies he had promised on a Sunday morning,
and he stayed while I cried at 3:04 am.
He expressed himself with a tint of mystery,
but with no boring exaggeration.
He wrote me letters,
on tiny post-its
The words he wrote, are probably what my favorite novel holds.
He made me breakfast,
And took me out on dates.
He had the exotic manners
of a fuckboy,
and the raw sexuality
of one, too.
But he had the intentions of a wallflower,
the introvert with faith rimmed spectacles,
and a love stained tee.

He could cook my favorite Madeleines.
He could dance,
And spin me around in circles till I fall into his arms,
As he picks me up and we make out,
On the way to bed.
I knew he was my fairy-tale love,
When we grabbed me by the waist,
pushed me against a wall, and held my hands above my head,
Looked me in the eye till I couldn’t just look anymore,
I kissed him for the first time.
And my foot just pops up.


Previous post : Stay.
Related post : Cinderella’s shoes.

It would be amazing to have more people reading my compositions. Please help my infinity grow bigger ∞