When you find yourself broken, you thread yourself into words like pearls strung on silk heartstrings. You turn your scatters into a necklace that an aunty gawks at during Mrs. Sharma’s cocktail party: "Haww, kitne ka tha" “Mere haseen ke daam pe” “Chal badmaash” And little does she know that you really did sell your smile to adorn your neck with bits of your love. The way poets string themselves into words that flood a page.
Jewelry Making (via introspectiveelephant)
Oh this must be one of my favourite pieces from you.












