You are the sea, pitch blue.You are the brightest star by the moon ✨

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  • myunfilteredthoughts 8w

    @writersnetwork @mirakee
    I am weird, you know
    I listen to the whole bad song
    Just to hear those four good lines.

    I find my peace
    in the quiet of night
    Staring at the ceiling fan
    Wide eyed

    I hate the morning light
    Creeping in through my window
    Like a thief
    Stealing tranquility of night

    I like the unkept insta profiles
    more than the ones
    With perfect smiles

    I look at the world
    with rose tinted glasses
    and I wear glitter
    above my lashes

    I like the smell of books
    More than perfumes'
    And my favourite jam
    are those old tunes.

    I like to end poems abruptly
    Hoping that someone else
    Would end it perfectly.

    © Niharikaa

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    Hey it's me.

  • myunfilteredthoughts 8w

    Fairy in my mind

    Once upon a time
    A sweet little fairy lived
    In my mind

    She told me stories
    of enchanted lands
    and magical flowers
    But mostly,she told me
    stories of a woman

    A woman who was strong
    who fought her demons
    and conquered them all

    When the darkest nights
    came in my life
    The story of that woman
    showed me light.

    I lost the fairy
    along the way
    With time
    I stopped looking for her
    night and day

    One day,
    I met the woman
    The fairy told me stories about
    She looked at me
    From across the mirror

    I realised then
    all this time
    The woman in the story
    Had been me

    My sweet fairy
    Was noone but my conscience
    And through those stories
    Was telling me
    Who I could be.

    And when I became that woman
    My sweet little fairy
    perhaps found home
    in some other
    little girl's encephalon.

  • myunfilteredthoughts 8w


  • myunfilteredthoughts 16w

    @mirakee @writersnetwork #zephyr #pod
    (This poem is in perspective of a person suffering from depression,who is not able to see all the happiness life has to offer as his mind is stuck in a spiral of negative thoughts)

    They say look at the stars
    They shine for you
    I say, they would still shine even if I wasn't there too

    They say see these motley flowers
    They bloom for you abound
    I look around,but I only see flowers wilted on ground

    They say feel the Zephyr
    It will soothe you
    I ask, will it soothe my somber soul too

    They say look at those trees
    They stand tall for you in foreground
    I look around,but I only see burning ashes' mound

    They say look at the lake
    It stands still for you
    I feel scared but of it's depth,I feel I am plunging into

    They say see the fireflies
    They glow the brightest for you
    I say ,but I feel I don't have eyes to see that too

    They say hold on ,look around
    There are people who would help you
    I say ,but I feel I don't have hands to hold on to


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    Feel the Zephyr
    It will soothe you
    I ask, will it soothe my somber soul too.
    (Read caption)

  • myunfilteredthoughts 16w

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #belong
    Dear mountains
    When first rays of sunrise fall on you
    My heart fills with hope
    I feel , I belong to you

    Dear oceans
    When your pitch blue waters touch the shore
    My heart fills with calmness
    I feel , I belong to you

    Dear stars
    When you twinkle in the dark
    My heart fills with content
    I feel , I belong to you

    Dear books
    When your pages unfold your magic
    My heart fills with glee
    I feel , I belong to you

    Dear self
    I know you are confused
    Where do I really belong?
    I feel , I belong everywhere yet nowhere.


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  • myunfilteredthoughts 17w

    (From a baby's perspective) #galaxies #mirakee #pod @writersnetwork @mirakee
    My mother picks me up
    On listening my cries
    I snuggle into her
    Waiting for a sweet lullaby
    But there comes none
    I look at her hazel eyes
    They are red and not dry
    Has she been crying?
    She is speaking something to me now
    She does this often
    "Oh my lovely baby,
    I met a little girl today
    She had dreams in her eyes
    In her I saw me
    When I was a little kid
    I had stars in my eyes too
    Getting married and motherhood
    Is your only duty
    I was told at twenty two
    I accepted it too
    Oh don't get me wrong my boy
    I would give up my life for you
    What are mere dreams too?"
    I look at her lovely face
    If I could speak now
    I would tell her
    I still see stars in her eyes
    Perhaps galaxies of them
    It isn't her lullabies that calms me
    But the beauty of her starry eyes
    I would tell her to not hide those stars
    But wear them with pride
    For it is me,who makes her mother
    But it is those dreams that make her "her"

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    It isn't her lullabies that calm me
    But her starry eyes
    (Read caption)

  • myunfilteredthoughts 17w


    Pearls of sorrow,blithe,desire eluding from orbs.

  • myunfilteredthoughts 17w

    #sadness @mirakee @writersnetwork #pod #writersbay
    There was a tinge of sadness in her voice as she told me about her decision. "Is there any way I can talk you out of it?", I asked, hopefully. She looked at me with those beautiful hazel eyes,"No Kabir, this is something I need to do for myself". I saw the resolute in her eyes and I knew then that no words of mine could pursuade her to stay.So I just looked at her trying to savor all the tiny details of her for my aching heart.

    We were at her favourite place,the top of the building she lived in. I always thought she liked sitting here because you could look at the City's amazing skyline from here.But one day she told me that was not the case. "It's the sunset Kabir , if you come at the right time, you can witness most amazing sunset from here.",she had said. And there were days we did witness the sunset,or so she thought. Because as the setting rays of sun colored the sky in various hues,it was not the sun which mesmerized me but she.Her jhumkas with tiny pieces of glass reflecting rays and making beautiful patterns on her arms.Her eyes shining with pure joy and that amazing golden yellow glow on her face.Maybe it was during one of these sunsets I fell in love with her.

    Her voice brought me back from my walk down the memory lane, "I am sorry Kabir ,I am sorry for not falling in love" she said."Well,you did fall in love, just not with me, atleast not enough to make you stay",I said.

    Do you still love her, after all this time?, My friend asked me as I took a break from my storytelling to sip my coffee."Always" I said. "And is she still together with the person she fell in love with"?

    " Well yes they are still together, but it isn't a person she fell in love with you see, but a place." I said as I looked at the photo of the sunset she had sent me from mountains and this time I did look at the sunset but the part of my heart that would always belong to her imagined her behind the camera lens, smiling, her jhumkas reflecting.........


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    There was a tinge of sadness in her voice.(Read caption)

  • myunfilteredthoughts 18w


    Sweet elixir to my twinging soul

  • myunfilteredthoughts 18w

    #furniture #mirakee #writersbay @writersnetwork @mirakee
    There is an old brown table in my hostel room.The fading color of it tells me it has seen many seasons and passed on to many persons.

    If you look closely there are smudges of yellow and green, maybe once upon a time an artist had painted beautiful canvases on it.

    The blotches of ink tells me perhaps a writer sat there and weaved beautiful stories.

    If you open the top drawer,you will find a sticky note within with words ''You are enough". I found it when I got the table first, I let it be there. It's a good reminder.

    On the lower right corner ,there is these 7 words written, "Can't stop staring at those ocean eyes" , a Billie Eilish fan maybe?

    Or maybe just maybe all these memories were left behind by one single person.

    When the words failed her ,she painted her feelings with colors on a paper, she was a painter that day.

    She was a writer on the day when the noise inside her head became too loud so she wrote it all down.

    Maybe somedays she felt she was not good enough,the sticky note came in handy then.

    And on some days she might have put up some fairy lights and listened to that song under the warm glow.

    Somedays I wonder what stories this table might tell the next person about me?

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    That old brown table