ana_vah

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love, romance, erotica, casual verses, satires, one liners and quotes. Insta handles @writeranavah

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  • ana_vah 6w

    Where was the sun when needed
    For the moon oft gave me company,
    The stars became silent spectators
    As the clouds taught me diligently.
    I rained regrets on fluffy white clouds,
    And dried tears in an October draught,
    But where was the old sun when needed,
    When bones froze in need of warmth.
    ©ana_vah

  • ana_vah 6w

    The splinters from broken crucifixes
    Pierce the heart of regret.
    Forgiveness- the scar tissue-
    Warns against forgetting.
    Empty graves fill with tears.
    Empty arms learn to hold together.
    The heart mends by itself,
    You forgive but don't forget.
    ©ana_vah

  • ana_vah 6w

    Ambivalent they termed me,
    As I wrestled with indecision.
    No one saw the powers that be
    Ripping my soul into two
    ©ana_vah

  • ana_vah 7w

    Everyone writes about love,
    A surreal love, transcending planes.
    I don't want to write about love.
    I want to feel it
    From the depth of my being,
    A chasm so deep with past neglect,
    That landfills will empty to satisfy,
    The hunger of attention
    And the thirst for desire.
    ©ana_vah

  • ana_vah 8w

    I make poetry from pain.
    It's written in blood drawn from veins.
    You think it's just some random words
    But only when they penetrate
    Flesh and bone and cartilage,
    Embed in the hollow of the thoracic cavity
    Pump blood through the portal vein,
    That's when I know the words I shed
    On blank paper goes not in vain.
    My poetry reaches out to you pain,
    After every hurt, once again.
    ©ana_vah

  • ana_vah 8w

    Variety is the spice of life,
    A variety consumed in fickleness.
    I try this and that till the midnight oil
    Burns steadily and intermittent.
    The light in my lamp casts out soot,
    The one in my eyes is blurred with overuse.
    I try this and that every day
    But what is the sum total of my day?
    The morning chirping to the evening dirge,
    The noon time ballads and nightly urge,
    All meet in the evening breeze,
    A day runs wild on the face of me.
    ©ana_vah

  • ana_vah 8w

    It's all a distraction
    Keeping my pages empty,
    My stories unwritten,
    Because I am too busy engrossing,
    Entertaining a fickle minded audience.
    Imitations do not turn me into an author.
    The only thing that does
    Is my story told in my words,
    Covering pages that become me,
    Take on shades of my melancholy,
    Pucker with the glow of my vivacity.
    You prick my fingers to taste my blood.
    I would rather stain a blank canvas,
    With scars that remain after I am long past,
    With a shadow cast, of my wayward soul,
    Onto the crossroad of eternity.
    ©ana_vah

  • ana_vah 11w

    Death, decor and deja vu,
    Each come in different flavours.
    I like bland familiarity,
    Like the plain crust of bread,
    Which fills a hungry stomach
    Without seducing the taste buds.
    ©ana_vah

  • ana_vah 11w

    The Lie

    Our cat knows me better than you,
    Sometimes. Often I wonder who you are.
    Are you the fulfilment of a prophesy,
    I made to a younger version of my heart?
    Or are you a nightmare ready to be broken
    In cold sweat. You can be either and I want both.
    It doesn't matter how I sleep at night.
    Anything is better than tossing alone
    On a made bed, rendered wet with saline drops.
    I enjoy your proximity a bit too much,
    Till you choke me with your insensitivity.
    Selfishness oozes off your self victimisation.
    I am a victim too, of your neglect and apathy.
    But it's only when I am paying attention,
    To your hands that keep typing on the phone,
    When I bare my heart to you in anticipation.
    "What was it?" Comes your reply, once you're done,
    If you're done! "Nothing" I sigh.
    Another day another lie.
    ©ana_vah

    02.11.2021

  • ana_vah 11w

    Extremes

    My ambition oscillates between two extremes.
    I make you my middle ground,
    Hoping to be pushed forward.
    Friction, friction, friction,
    Honey or tar, viscous enough,
    To stop me in my track.
    Either extremes loom large,
    Greatness or anonymity.
    ©ana_vah

    27.10.21