#divyawritespoems

[divyawritespoems]

Why do you keep telling me how beautiful I am, when it's just you who's got beautiful eyes that can see everything the way they are?

-Divya

[divyawritespoems]

I hide behind the curtains of your eyes from the light that you sparkle upon the little girl in me who whines, lies and then smiles, while your lashes cradles her back to sleep with your songs as her lullabies.

-Divya

[divyawritespoems]

I let you out of my brain, because of you it was fogged longer than needed.

I did the digging in my heart and you are no longer buried there.

I set you free from the love I was hoping could exist a little longer.

And for the little girl in me that grew up, you have become non existent.

-Divya

[divyawritespoems]

How does your writings answer all the questions that I’ve been asking myself..

Depends on what questions you've been asking from yourself. There are high chances I asked myself the same ones before, hoping somebody would answer them for me. But you see, the words purely come out from a wholesome heart who defines what existence could be in different phases of life. You don't really have to wait on the table with a pen and a paper to write something, when it all comes naturally. Once you start sitting blank, and the sentences get framed on their own in your mind as if somebody else is carving them into you, that's when you know, there are unanswered questions that are needed to be answered just like this. Very simple, genuine and effortless way to question yourself and answer them on your own. That's when you know you're knowing yourself a bit better. How does it sound to you?

[divyawritespoems]

The smell of summer

After sprawling all over the bed all night when you wake up by dawn and the creases in your bedsheet makes you tired. So you get up, roam in the garden to finally sit together with ‘the morning’ to allow the sunlight to bathe you with its warmth while the chirping birds can sing you something and cheer you up. The softness in the morning air covers all your skin and you feel all in the fairytale. It's when you breathe in and your body starts to float, your feet high up in the sky and the cool, the clouds share with you to make you feel even more calmer. The faint fragrance of jasmine that swifts through your nose, that refreshes your senses and embraces you in an invisible blanket until it stings your olfactory receptors and you don't want to smell it anymore. It's the voices you can hear when your neighbours are fighting and somebody's wife is upset with him for not helping the children to get ready for school. And the book you bought along to read but couldn't move on from the first paragraph, so you close it and sit there with your arms folded in an easy pose. Suddenly your mom calls you out for breakfast and asks you what you've been doing for the past 2 hours and you say- “I just woke up”. That's when you know you've been smelling summer.

-Divya

[divyawritespoems]

PEOPLE...

Little do you know about the people who stay put when they see a kid falling down and the guardian angels running to pick him up before they hear him cry. These people can see the care their palms possess and the delicacy the soft skin of the kid holds while still wandering in some other world. Like, wow! They are satisfied with how great the fall was, how satisfyingly the kid is crying and how they would have contributed too. I'm one of those people. I know it's funny until I end up in hell.

Anyway, how aware were you of what an injury was when you first fell down?

The second you start having this thought your mind decides to switch places and takes you somewhere else and you have another thought within the previous thought about how the mortals are careless in one instance and how helpless they become once their end is near. They can't do anything about the time they didn't care for themselves, their kids and what was still unachieved. Then comes a gust of wind from their little fantasy land that slaps them over their faces and reminds them of how miserable they have been before they start doing something about it.

And then there are these people who are careful with everything but still are careless with everything. The pretentious mind that we have, makes us believe what can not be done by us, and is something as useless as the last page of a notebook disguised as the rough page. Nobody sees it at an angle of how calculative we are with the problems, words and sentences that are first framed on the last page and well written on the first page. So indirectly it's the foundation of the whole story. This thriller, action packed story that you make up in your head, which is a sheer nonsense, but you'd still think of it as a problem and mess with your head just to find the solution you already know. Afterall, humans are complicated and so are their minds. Just like I switched between paragraphs because I was writing something and ended up writing something else. Strange, isn't it?

My Introduction?

Hi, I'm Dr. Strange.

-Divya

[divyawritespoems]

I read the soul

People ask me if I read. Read about what?

My caged instincts, my destinies or fights?

Reading unintentionally the lines of old books

Just to find my soul in the bits of the words

The alphabet that makes up the borderline

and

The abbreviations that couldn't define it as

a whole

The semicolons that couldn't deny its morality

otherwise

From being broken to being a ghost at night

The question mark that questions its existence

The exclamation that sees what troubles

it has gone

In the end, the simile fails to find its look alike.

This is what I read in my free time...

-Divya