It's strange how we humans try in vain to find home in people, who themselves are but wanderers.

#Thehomewithin
(~poetesskalpana♡)

What makes you so good at choosing, what isn't choosing you back.
.
.
#pondering
(~poetesskalpana)

Ever since words found me,
You, have always been my favorite metaphor.

And
longing was the favorite simile.

(~poetesskalpana)

The proximity of your existence in my thoughts makes me afraid, sometimes.

An artist, never lets go of the muse easily. But could never confine it either.

(~poetesskalpana)

How long could you hold on to a moment?
Just because you're afraid what the next might bring...

(~poetesskalpana)

My words were never mine,
They were a bequest from moments and people and time
Who never knew how to stay
And
I?
I never knew how to hold.

(~poetesskalpana)

Every time when someone knocks
my heart flutters at the echoes of goodbyes'
.
.
.

My hands are afraid to lose much before they hold.

(~poetesskalpana)

What good are the poems
if they can't rip open your heart,
If they can't remind you of days you've buried somewhere in the gravest corners of your heart,

If they can't leave you pondering hours about moments; you have lost in dusty woods of life.

What good are the poems
if they can't make the deads hope again

What good are the poems
If they can't bring back those who left to never return
If they can't make you believe they are there
Even if they're not
Even when they're not

And what good are the poems
If they can't make you fall in love with the soul which carved them.

(~poetesskalpana♡)