Avi @abysmaldukh - Tumblr Blog

Thank you for everything avi

you're welcome.

Describe ur pain.

ye kahaani hai ek insaan ki, this is the story of a human, bebas, laachaar, haara hua insaan. helpless, stripped, collapsed under his own weight. zindagi ke har mod par, at every cruel bend life offered, haalaat ka maara hua insaan. a soul beaten senseless by circumstance. apni manzil ka raahi, a wanderer chasing an incessant destination, doobti naav ka musafir. sailing aboard a sinking boat. haath badhaye toh jism kapkapaye, when he reaches out, the body terrifyingly shivers, kadam uthaye toh rooh kaap uthe. when he takes a step, the soul trembles. woh aur uski lachaari, he and the weight of his own helplessness, ankhein khole toh ek bebasi ka samaa. opens his eyes to the air thick with powerlessness. insaan aur insaan ki tanhai. a human, and the loneliness of being human.

#here's a poem from 2022 to whoever you are #desiblr #dukh

21 now.

I am beyond the fleeting moments I once created for myself, and beyond the people who left without saying a word.

I will not sabotage what comes my way Papa, good or bad.

#vivek garud on yt #desiblr #desi aesthetic #poetry #writeblr #indian cinema #indian dark academia #dukh #happy birthday avi

I can't run behind people anymore, you do you.

#dukh

#desiblr #desi aesthetic #desi things #street photography #dukh #idk im just sharing

#desiblr #desi aesthetic #street photography #desi things #dukh #I've hit rock bottom again

tell me that my anxiety feels like little sparrows lurking on your chest;

that my love for you feels like one long tiring poem that just doesn't seem to end-

that the spilled tea & milk biscuits on my bedside table reminds you of someone who overthinks to sea lengths; but still cries herself to sleep.

dear you, tell me that my mother had a face sadder than mine, but I stand a better chance at happiness

that people like you and I never survive together, we only exist in our entirety till everything around just stops making any sense.

#desiblr #poetry #writeblr

as i write this, the sound of rain has clouded the music playing in front of me. the sound of rain that sounds like your payal, the one you refuse to ever take off, under your jeans and with your dresses, you run free under the july skies. my favourite sound, my favourite view.

you're the cup of chai on a baarish wala din, the cup that always burns my tongue, but i chuckle and sip it anyways. like the rain that pours from monday to sunday, the rain that i secretly enjoy as i get drenched while going to college.

winters turned into summer waiting for you, and now rain will become december mornings when you come back again. something about you and the mogra in your hair makes me want to pray. pray more than twice a day for december to never end. for you to never ever take those flowers and those payals off. maybe, it was never about god and always about you. maybe you're the god i pray to, and pray for.