Submissions open for Beetle Magazine's November Issue
Welcome to the community blog of DelSlam. Here you can read truthful writings on things that matter in our lives.
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I brushed a stroke of orange on a clean coral canvas
and waited not too long to see its meaning fade....
Each night as it strikes ten
The destructive thoughts ring the bell...
Tears screeching loud in silence
Silence that surrounds as if stolen from graveyards...
एक चिड़िया थी छोटी सी
गुमसुम सी… खामोश सी…
Didn't you had a reputation to maintain?
How to be perfect you were trying yourself to train...
Break the ten letter word
She uttered with pink cheeks...
The boy next door was crimson
The boy on the first bench from class, teal....
Akelapan bhata hai mujhe ab
Logo ka kehna hai logo se milo...
She loved him like how the night loves the dark sky,
Like how loneliness loves the heartache...
By-Srilakshmi U Sirumath
Every breath you muster courage
to draw in, is but another anxious thought...
And so the rain keeps pouring
as you drench yourself....
Oh life! Why me?
In between screams & tears....
sometimes I feel I'm not enough
that this body and soul put together...
With the fluttering of my wings,
I want to shatter the bars of this cage.
My bony fingers skim through the list of names,
The people that I kiss fall asleep and lay....
By-Aditi Dhar Choudhury
A young girl, all of sixteen,
Huddled up in a corner...
I sat among the clouds, hoping for a glance of you
Wondering if the height would suffice this time...
then I smile....
Hands of a lover,
hits of a husband.
People may say spring is here
Everything is upstaged with fragrance too...
On the hospital bed...
I have been tossing and turning my head.
The dark room beckons me,
filled with a icy street of frozen blood....
Dark walls keep pushing
Her soul to the depths...
You turn off the lights, to call it a day, as you prepare to sleep,
your mind flickers to a certain incident that happened earlier in the day...
It knocks on my door
Every night and day...
when you stand
in front of the mirror...
I plead, I plead, day and night,
to free me from thoughts, grey yet right.
A bus stop, heavy rains A couple stumbles in, drunk in love or on something else.
I may be emotional and prone to getting attached a little too easily but I am not weak.
At age 10
I wandered, I ran out...