Archive for the tag Guest Posts

All Poets Have A Sad Story

If I wasn’t feeling like shit because I was turned on by girls (one girl in particular), I’m sure I would have found something else to hate myself for. I was young, female, loud, and had a body. Society does this to you. It moulds you till you are all soft woundable spots, and then it makes you kick yourself.

The Booth

I tried to remember if the booth on screen is the same booth that I and my partner usually go and get a security check from. I couldn’t recognise it. I stopped thinking and concentrated on the film.

Poem: The Only One

I want to tell him how I feel, How I struggle to sleep, That fear of the two letter word, Makes me weep, He is The Only One.

Poem: How Do You Know?

how do you know it's girls? i wonder as my friend comes out to me how do you know the limit of your love? and somehow, weird quizzes dragged me all over the internet

Poem: Pink

The luminous room was welcoming, A place where he was transformed, Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, This is where his life reformed.

Short Story: Ghosts Of Ulaua

In some places it rains a bit during the rainy seasons. In some places it rains more, and one cannot see a long way ahead. On some days in Ulaua it rains so hard that one can barely see a few feet ahead - in these seasons, the Ulaua river is always in spate.

Poem: A Naïve Sin

I stand still looking down at your hand holding the knife, My body is trembling with fear but you want me to pay you with my life. The spectators want me to plead for forgiveness in this time, So forgive me, for I didn't know love was a crime.

Not Just A ‘Tomboy’

All my three years as an undergraduate in sound school, I was the only girl in an entire batch of around 70 students. I figured I’d have no problem blending in with other boys as I always thought we were very much alike. But apparently, they didn’t see it that way.

Me, Your Desi-Drag King

A lot of people have questioned my gender identity. I have a rather dominant masculine exterior which is often mistaken for me wanting to be a man.

Poem: She

She calms me, Like the ocean after a life in the harsh desert. I touch her and the pulse paints a vivid picture, In my inward eye, she’s my Austen and my Kahlo.
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