verbose

Actual people read my words,and they care enough about them to tell me this|20|tech girl|soul mirakeean ❤

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  • verbose 2w

    3.6.19
    Ugh I'm sorry I talk in stars ��
    #writersnetwork

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    Curiosity gets bigger
    Each time I look at you
    Should I wait patiently
    Or take the wheel further

    Yet I cannot, but keep wondering
    How many dark secrets
    The night holds
    Within her tenebrous folds!

    ©verbose

  • verbose 2w

    If I had wings to fly I would go to the scarlet moon on the wings of a diamond night,
    I Shall Never
    Be a Star,But a small candle
    With a flickering light
    Burning in the night
    With the little words
    I Write.

    //In pursuit of happiness//

    ©verbose

  • verbose 3w

    I have things half-written over here,
    a half-written aesthetic journal
    hammered down with sunburnt phases.

    I curl my lips like romancing with my poetry. With silence dancing on my bosom, sneezing and holding time.
    Between lips and parched lips, resides a mystical cacophony yearning a crown of butterflies to decorate my atlas of body.

    i see words like vintage telephones in my surreal mind.
    This sky lives like poetry in my belly.Where i come and sleep, to absorb the moisture of cold nights. I have prolonged life maybe and words are a lengthy delusion,
    Quieter yet stronger.

    Somedays, the summers ring into my ears like a blade.I became a quiet monologue, left to flip through times.
    i know that surreal romance,clicking noises of seizures and tears,of ink and words.

    And in the years to come,
    I will smile often
    reeling back in blithe
    and lost in the ensemble
    of these glorious times.

    -Richa

    27.05.19
    #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod #reality @writersnetwork

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    ©verbose

  • verbose 4w

    Send me a postcard,drop me a line ! I'll let them rest between the chimes ! ��
    20.05.19

    #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod

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    Verses after verses,
    Words after words
    Beautiful yet incomplete
    Expressing the same old thoughts
    again and again, with the same old heart.

    I throw my fear of losing words
    into a book,
    but you throw your shirt
    on the clouded pages
    to let me know
    “It is missing a button”.

    -Richa

  • verbose 5w

    Make sense ?!
    10.05.19

    #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod

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    Do humans really become stars when they die?
    Or do stars become humans when they fall?
    Am I a moon or, just one of the stars
    you keep counting on the sky?

    I want to believe that we all are the fallen stars.
    We are more than just a child of the moon,
    We are a walking supernova.

    -Richa

  • verbose 6w

    She became a quiet monologue, left to flip through times and often, she would swim among the pages of words,romancing to ink,stains,shades,silhouettes,words,stars and moon.

    One day when those eyes close forever,a bit of fairy dust from her starry eyes will stay behind forever.

    -Richa

  • verbose 8w

    You would never believe me if I told you that I have seen a tale of flowers and dead flowers. The continuous realms of abandoned walls, speaking a language to be deciphered.

    Sometimes,I fall in love with trays of colours,a texture,a yellow tainted page,a temple. For they speak a language that tells me of spiral existence.

    I believe in surreal backdrop image,a flimsy boat anchored nearby where the river meets the ocean adds to the omen of things to come.

    I've met a girl who talks about stars like they're the only ones that ever made sense to her and told me how they stayed up all night listening to her insanity like it all makes sense.

    I remember the rare night I may have left behind from my life. The darkness no longer denies my demise. I listen for the silence of the world at rest,a stillness that eclipses that fading light. We all have a story and poetry buried within us. Sometimes. But it's true and I can prove it .

    -Richa
    21.04.19

    #believe #writersnetwork #pod #mirakee

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    Anything, anything that explains me about your existence,I sniff it. I embrace it like a life.

    -Richa

  • verbose 9w

    It's just one little girl, clutching her pillow at night as she goes through her third packet of chocolate Oreos
    It's the girl that looks down at the floor when you wave to her because she doesn't believe that anyone would be excited to see her.
    It's the girl who pretends to not like people anyway.

    It's just a little girl who doesn't know much about the wounded side of her but her deepest wounds are hidden in those darkest corners of her heart where your love light can't reach.

    It's the girl who feels like she's failing in making herself the right one. She screams out,makes the mountain of words;but all is in her mind.

    It's the girl who's building up a storm inside her and now she's tired. But still, she's afraid to open it up. She doesn't care about the cracks and the destructions this storm is creating in her. All she cares is that if one day she explodes with these things,how this world is going to handle that.

    It's the girl who has told the world that she's way too young to romanticize the trickles of light from a world more than a million miles away.

    There are some things that she's not ready to talk about just yet.

    It's the girl who wants to slam herself against the wall some days and jostle herself until she realizes that no one can be like her.

    It's the girl who's not having a voice where she's yearning to be heard. It's the girl who hasn't learnt to be sympathetic,so don't ask her to console a crying wreck.

    It's the girl who can see when you didn't smile,or make eye contact,but the anguish would turn your grey eyes green, you'd just stare at the ground while she wants to hold your face in her hands and say it's okay !

    It's the girl who can make you began gazing the skies full of stars,with much more wonder. She redeemed her belief in miracles. It's the girl who feels light in the shadows. She sees the sun beneath the stormy skies. It's the girl who loves to whisper her wishes to the rain more than to the meteor shower.

    -Richa


    PS: Today I've completed 2 years on mirakee ! Thank you @mirakee @writersnetwork and all the wonderful wonderful people of mirakee for immense love and support. It's all because of you that I'm here. Words and verbose,true love forever and always. ♥️♥️
    Loud cheers to all those who have been a part of my journey to a fable. ����


    And and this poem is very close to my heart which I wrote when I actually didn't even know what writing is. So yeah kinda repost of same poem from where I started.

    Thank you for sticking with me ! ❤️

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    Cheers to the life I love to live.Others could just be a prose, written beautifully with a poetic touch but in this beautiful world of metaphors and similies,let yourself close to people who reply with a big dreamy smile, their eyes shine as if stars winking in the midnight.

    -Richa

  • verbose 11w

    The known yet intriguing scents, blanketed in black and white with a tinge of gold filling the air similar to that of a scattered flower.

    Let her sail away to a distant,wondrous land where her dreams form streams that flow,
    Where her thoughts have no limits to know.

    She dreams in colors that drive away the blues.
    She wants to swivel in the freedom of the wind. Her fragrance spreads gently with a breeze.

    She doesn't let the cloud of silences of today evaporate amidst the giggles of tomorrow. She never let's anyone catch her when she's vulnerable, she doesn't see the point in sharing her hurt.

    She doesn't let herself explode. She listens. She understands.

    Sometimes she wakes up sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of the night like as if she's about to lose her breath and die. She's the cosmos of her own wicked nature.

    She's the lover of words. She loves the words more than the entire universe. She's the museum of shifted identities;a galaxy of romanticized dreams and passion.

    She's a fickle woman made of fire, she's fragile. She doesn't pretend to be anyone other than the woman she is. She's the woman who doesn't give a damn about destiny and refuse to give up now.

    She has finally found her happiness because she has come to know about herself;
    She stays curious about everything and gazed by everything,she is the author of her book, creator of her universe,she is the galaxy of her own self.

    ©Richa
    28.03.19

    #pod #writersnetwork #mirakee #repost

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    She dreams in colors that drive away the blues.
    She listens. She understands.

    ©ri_cha

  • verbose 14w

    She wants to be an elf that lives forever
    And is exceptionally good at archery.

    While you're out walking in the woods,
    as man folk mate who beckons
    With eyes that see beauty in everything
    With a heart that expands with visions to write.
    To live peacefully in oneness
    She's such a beautiful young girl,
    With a heart filled with holy light,
    The birds greet her as if she's snow white.

    Feeling enchanted and believing in magic,
    She sings her feelings.
    She wants to traverse the ocean,
    experience the wonders, travel spewing tales of magic,
    Where daisies sing like little birds.
    She has found her rhythm in the flutters of her joyous flight.

    She'll be a beautiful puny fly spreading herself between flowers.
    Embarked on these feelings, you'll be someone great,not someone like Taylor but yourself.

    She wonders how the paper itself holds up when you're freezing the moment, igniting frizzling Sparks.
    She admires your freedom.

    You're up on a stake
    You're fire
    Deep down in your words lying the serenity.
    Through the grace of your soul seek for a girl with green stars in her eyes,the sultry shades of blue,the seaweed shades of green and all the iridescent hues.
    Like the gentlest of rain ,may my verse stir your spirit to remind you life is joyful and to help you feel at ease.

    I could go forever but here I stop.
    -Richa
    9.03.19

    #enchant #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod #repost @writersnetwork @mirakee

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    For I speak the weight of gold, 
    And sing like an angel,
    Whispering enchanting dreams, 
    And dancing on clouds.

    -Buschini