��️‍�� here i dump all my writings, good or bad. idc i am not what i write.

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  • _tashi_ 17h

    a old used gum
    stuck under the desk,
    of a grade seven classroom,
    tells a different story,
    of who she once used to be
    a delinquent, maybe.

    unbuttoned shirt,
    and an unironed skirt
    way above her knees,
    the folded sleeves
    upto her wrists.
    she was feared but
    despised by many.

    short mopped hair,
    throwing punches everywhere,
    bruises were her pride
    of fights won,
    at the school's back side.
    she was a rival, a rogue
    she knew it better than anyone.

    wounds littered her skin,
    as she spit dust and blood
    from her bleeding gums,
    gave her bloody smile
    to the knocked out girls
    from the other schools,
    this was just another battle.

    where is she now?
    no one knows.
    there are no longer fights
    since she left her home.
    she's now a lost girl,
    a runaway, maybe.
    running towards the freedom,
    or to just another battle of her life.


    Writing challenge.

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  • _tashi_ 1d

    the veins on the leaves
    stretching from the midribs,
    the tree rings dating back
    to the days of our good times,
    you remember each one of them
    engraved deep within you,
    the weather, the words I said.

    you swim in the river,
    ripples follow you everywhere,
    the waves crashing on to the shore
    of the sea you love the most,
    your fingers grazing the lines
    running across the seashells,
    you want to take back home.

    the crescent moon shines
    along with the countless stars,
    your eyes wandering around
    to know how it feels to be so far
    yet so close and familiar
    that your heart aches for her,
    shining brightly but alone out there,
    in the dark cold Universe.

    your warm amber eyes
    are the pool of the honey
    as the sun kisses your face
    through your huge glass windows,
    you soak in the warmth,
    as the silhouette of dancing trees
    cast a spell on your lonely figure.

    you play with the sunspots,
    the shadow of the leaves,
    falling through those huge trees.
    dancing along with the song of the breeze.
    for your softness makes me fall
    into the deep pits, never to recover.
    but you will always be something more
    even with all the hurts you have done
    to me.


    Writing challenge.

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  • _tashi_ 3d

    warm as the hearth
    is your barred heart.

    as Spring comes alive on March,
    in wait for that final spark,
    but you are always on guard,
    against all charge,
    past had left the mark
    deep and dark,
    living was hard then,
    it still is.

    choked with scars
    is your fragile heart.

    people came, but
    only to part,
    they cannot be stopped,
    you could only watch
    their disappearing figure
    getting lost among others.
    words were brutal,
    so was the fate.

    somone barged
    into your shielded heart.

    how long it had been
    since you last let someone win
    the way to your heart
    and let them take in charge.
    was it the loneliness
    or a few skipped beats
    when your eyes met.

    life is not all about regrets.


    Writing challenge.

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  • _tashi_ 3d

    dull dark clouds collide,
    a lightning cracks while
    the thunder roars,

    rain falls on my roof.
    everything reminds me
    of you.

    you were in love with me
    you loved rain too,
    and also dull days like these.

    I am filled with loss and grief
    as your ghost visits me
    often these days,

    haunted by your image,
    and your memories
    becoming dull with time.

    engraved in these walls are
    your voices and your moments
    spent with me those last few days.

    times have passed, I
    became a witness to
    hundreds of full moon,

    but I can't forget you
    and your face glowing
    in the dull moonlight.

    you were beautiful,
    and always will be.
    never it will be dull,

    as pictures are vivid
    than my own memory,
    and I shall treasure it

    with all my life.


    Writing challenge.

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  • _tashi_ 4d

    "a gifted scholar."
    they called her,
    the truth was another,
    she worked hard,
    thoughts about her mother
    and her concerns,
    expenses on her education.

    she was not gifted,
    and she knew it well,
    as lessons took over her sleep,
    in midnight she would weep
    over unsolvable questions,
    didn't let in the temptations.
    sacrifices were to be made
    for good marks and high grade.

    she hated the word gifted,
    the burden on her never lifted,
    expectations grew out of the roof,
    the reality hitting made her aloof
    of the unfulfilled wishes of her own,
    her dreams and hopes she'd disown
    for the people she loved and cared
    but for her none was spared.

    "you were once so gifted."
    the words was heard now and then,
    as she burned out her fuels in sixteen,
    she was once a legend and a queen
    but she doesn't care about the taken throne,
    or the high marks and parents' frowns,
    the life lived with fulfilled wishes and dreams
    are what she truly believes in
    with all her heart.

    the torn apart sketch book,
    the burning pages of her journal,
    washed away paint bottles she hid,
    were all discouraged to get rid

    she was a gifted child,
    not in one they thought she was,
    she was a gifted child,
    but they killed her by
    telling her to give up
    on her dreams.


    Writing challenge.

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  • _tashi_ 5d

    how do you surprise your lover?
    do you give them gifts
    or maybe a bouquet of flowers?
    do they accept it with flushed face,
    or throw them on the floor instead?

    I have heard of some
    who travelled thousands miles
    just to lock them in their embrace
    a surprise but anticipated one,
    to feel their skin and their face,
    spend few days on their bed,
    whispering words of love,
    for distance between them now
    is just few mm apart.

    some have bought fortunes,
    for the people they love,
    a gesture of love they'd say,
    only to be broken at last,
    for love can never be exchanged
    with dimes and cars.

    but for some,
    a flower does works,
    even a small gesture like a hug.
    or a few lines poem dedicated and recited,
    is enough to feel the love.

    how do I surprise my lover?
    ofcourse, I buy them flowers or few,
    I surprise them with a hug,
    slow dancing in the kitchen,
    as I make them twirl and laugh,
    I surprise them with kiss on the cheeks,
    a morning tea, and warm toast.
    my poems all dedicated to them
    as they read out loud every afternoon
    with a smile and little blush,
    for these are enough for us,
    love is enough for us.


    Writing challenge.

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  • _tashi_ 1w

    I live inside a bubble,
    a frail sanctuary
    with many rules to follow
    trapped and suffocating,
    no company by me,
    alone I came in this world
    and alone I shall leave.
    following the footsteps
    of unknown beings before me,
    I spend my days
    in labour and services.
    no one to ask if I m okay,
    no one to hold me when I cry.

    this fragile bubble I am in,
    I can burst it open
    and escape,
    become a fugitive,
    or a rebel,
    breathe in the air of freedom.
    get a tattoo,
    dance all night long,
    do whatever I want.

    but I can't,
    held by invisible chains,
    and fear of unknown
    or is it disappointments?
    I can't escape
    from this flimsy cage
    I will rot here forever,
    killing my dreams,
    and killing myself
    in the end.


    Writing challenge.

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  • _tashi_ 1w

    I protect this turf of mine,
    protected by my ancestors,
    where blood were spilled,
    and oaths were sworn.

    I protect this home of mine,
    bestowed with abundance,
    where happiness flows,
    along with the river.

    I fight for this turf,
    past has seen it rough,
    many lives were lost,
    and much were to come.

    the looters were many,
    so were the plagues,
    but we have stood tall
    and withstood the storms.

    This turf is my home,
    and it has my history,
    telling me stories of
    our God and the Sun.

    My turf comes first
    before any of my own,
    my family lives here,
    and have thrived for ages.

    The juniper leaves burn,
    smokes reaching the sky,
    an offering to the universe
    to protect us and our land.

    The river flows till the end,
    And mountains stand tall,
    caves hold secrets of our past,
    the sky is our witness.

    our turf is sacred,
    and we will save it
    to sustain and remain
    till the end of the world.


    Writing challenge.

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  • _tashi_ 1w

    i spend my days
    counting stars,
    waiting for their demise,
    looking farther than the universe,
    the danger lurking everywhere,
    nothing is immortal
    even the largest ball of gases
    or this huge expanding contraption we all live in.

    i haven't felt safe
    since the time i came into existence,
    my warm mother's womb wasn't forever,
    nor was the small house i lived in till three,
    i was casted, driven out,
    forced to take in what wasn't mine,
    the world around me keep on changing,
    and nothing meant forever.

    my mother visited me once in a while,
    the new house was cold and wet,
    i tried to be one with the flaking walls,
    but it was cruel, snapped at my mistakes,
    my howling cries contained within the cemented walls,
    my dad visited me twice in a year,
    his embrace was something to remember,
    somewhere i felt safe, but he would leave again.

    i tried to make home of places that
    would be later haunted with bitter past,
    i tried to feel safe in the abode of strangers,
    but i was foolish to believe their lying lips
    telling me that they would protect me,
    i had to move forward again and again,
    nothing was permanent and forever,
    for all caused pain and never-ending tears.

    mistakes were made,
    and regrets followed me wherever i went,
    haunting my dreams.
    but sun shines through the gaps of
    enclosure I've built myself,
    and i feel the cool air,
    a chance to start once again,
    and trust again.

    i met you,
    you make me feel safe than ever,
    you make me feel home,
    i'd have never thought that home
    could be a person with sweetest smile.
    you are my winter sun
    in the coldest time of the year.
    i was safe and sound for the first time
    in my whole life.


    Writing challenge.

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  • _tashi_ 1w

    I loved to touch everything
    as I walked from school to back home,
    the feel of flowers' petals in spring,
    the coarse bark of the trees,
    leaves of the spreading crawlers,
    the fur of cats on the street,
    the fences, and the pipes
    and the gently blowing breeze.

    one day, as I walked
    my fingers grazing the fences
    made from the bamboo,
    a splinter of the rough edges
    made its way to my thumb,
    the hurt made me jump.

    the splinter was deep within my skin,
    making its way to my tissue,
    the thumb swelled up
    and it was really a big issue,
    I couldn't write nor I could hold,
    for the pain was greater
    than I thought would be.

    as the days went by,
    so did the wound and the pain,
    I had to burst the balloon
    of blood and pus,
    it was such a horrid sight to see.
    there wasn't any mark,
    but it left one on my heart.

    I never touched anything
    since that day of the incident,
    I was scared of fences,
    and stopped grazing my fingers
    on my way back home.
    my hands were inside my pocket
    for I will be forever scarred for life,
    and scared of the splinters hurting me
    if I ever touch a thing.


    Writing challenge.

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