Kaali|Poet

I'm a bit of hopeless and hopeful romantic. I enjoy every moment spent in the nature. I love going on walks and watching sun rise. I love writing poems and poetry for people and watching their smile. Contact me| Instagram: @kaali_thepoet

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When the grim reaper comes

Tomorrow when the grim reaper comes

I want him to look at you with eyes full of love

I want him to be gentle with you when he says that you no more exist in physical form

Because today, you are in cold

Your bones weighed with the burden of lives

I've never seen you sip a glass of chai in peace

Tomorrow when the grim reaper comes

I want him to take you to the lands I wanted you to see

I want him to immerse you in the colors of the world, show you how beautiful it can be

Tomorrow when the grim reaper comes

I want to be there no matter what

To tell you

"You can rest amma", the same line that I tell you everyday.

~Kaali

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If he could he would've, ripped my heart out and watch me bleed to death, but he would be there and that's all I need.

-Kaali

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He took her to his most comfortable spot where he would lay for hours and think about life. He held her hand ever so gently as he guided her through the way. Some old rugged mattress that looked soft and worn out was placed there . A warm blanket ,used cup of coffee and some books...it looked so cozy that she couldn't help but smile. They sat there for hours watching the sunset in each other's embrace and lied on the bed as the moon shone upon them with light. Her face resembled a calm river, her smile mirroring the gentle ripples in it. His warmth made her more comfortable than the blanket. Humming slowly and talking to each other, they slept in content and spent their weekend.

~Kaali

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It was December, perfect time to fall in love with you.

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but I think I'm in love...

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I know my love is self-destructive and that is why I do not allow myself to fall in love, completely. I pull myself before I drown, tormenting myself between wanting it and not wanting myself. I can't, I shouldn't fall in love.

~Kaali

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I hope I see you in every June, July and August, when it rains. I hope I get to see you in January, when it's cold and in February when I'm in love with myself. I hope I get to see you everyday so as to love you every moment.

Kaali | a tortured poet

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On days like these, I wish you would call me. I wish we could talk until our exhaustion melts into a puddle of warmth. On days like these, I wish you could spare me a minute or two. Chests wide open, starry night taking our tiredness away, slow and ugly giggles—on days like these, I wish I could listen to you laughing and whining until I fall asleep.

Kaali | a tortured poet

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We are sitting across from each other. It's peaceful, and we are both smiling. Smiling and remembering the past, as the bitter taste of nostalgia envelopes my tongue, I say, "It hurt me. When you said those words, it felt like you ripped my heart apart and cut it into a million little pieces." I say it gently with a floating smile like it used to hurt before but it doesn't anymore. But it does. Maybe just a little bit. The aching of my heart reminds me of how it was. But can I ever say it in my mother tongue? I could never. Every time my tongue twists to breathe out a single word in my native language, my heart jolts and I break down into sobs. Because I could never. Never speak it in my mother tongue. Saying you hurt me in English is like saying I like apples. But telling it in my mother tongue would be like stabbing the wound myself, reliving all the pain.

-Kaali

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I was all kinds of ugly before I was this beautiful.

-Kaali

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[letsbelonelytogetherr]

– Audrey Hepburn

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Mundane things that feel like art to me :

Long fingers playing piano, rough and big hands rubbing on moisturizer gently, nimble yet soft touches on the face, a sweet smile you give to someone and you realize that you are genuinely happy and feel beautiful because of them, someone playfully but carefully tugging on your hair to grab your attention, fast typing of the keyboard while words tumble out of your brain, that huge spark in those eyes of yours when you understood something you've been working on, little scribbles of lyrics and poems, when you put effort into something and work hard for it, the way you pause to look at trees, and kindness and smiles and hugs and soft gentle forehead and cheek kisses.

-Kaali

[feral-ballad]

Ama Codjoe, from Bluest Nude: Poems; “Bluest Nude”

[Text ID: “I crave. I want to be seen clearly or not at all.”]

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Period.

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The gentle voice of the love reverberates the most in the quietest moments of life. -Kaali

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My heart craves for art. In the most mundane moments, my soul urges me to bring what I see in the way I say into existence. -Kaali