You are static where I am dynamic:
As waves of my being
Crash into your rigid self
I only find pain and anger
And withdraw into myself
But I never learn
And my tide keeps on coming
To you, the beach
And you keep on pushing me away
Because you are static where I am dynamic
And you don’t feel like moving
Just yet


Never tell me
My opinion does not matter
Simply because
I am a girl

When, in the dark
I smile at you
And while crawling into your bed
I slit your throat

Know that
You were killed by a girl
Who recognised in herself
The monster needed to put another to sleep

The ones who survive
Did so because
They knew

They knew about
The inherent strength
In the ‘weaker’ sex
And bowed to its power

Don’t you wish
You had known too?
And in your ignorance
You tried to shut me up

This was my warning
Next time
I will haunt you in hell
If I must.


Home is where the heart is
They say
Well then for me
Home is all around me
It is the way you smile at me
When I meet someone after a long while
My clothes, my books, my music
The people who care about me
The people who are now gone but will always be there
The memories are home
The future is home
Because everything
I do I invest in it
My heart is beating in my chest, yes
But its scattered around the worlds
For me
Home is everywhere I have made memories yet
And all the places I’ve visited in my head
Home is not a person
Or a place
Its life as I live it out
And my thoughts
And emotions
Home consists of what makes me
And if I gave you a complete list
You’ll never have enough time
To read all the places
My heart has been to
Home is living for me
And that is what it’ll always be


I envy those people
Who can be angry
With stone hearts
And emotionless faces
Who get taken seriously
Simply because they cannot care anymore
I envy those people
Who are dry
And cold
With voices which don’t shake
And tears which never fall
Who will always have the upper hand
Because the moment
My voice shakes
Or tears roll down my cheeks
Apparently my opinion
Is worthless
And whatever I say
Is coming straight
from the trash can
In a world where
Expressing your emotions
By word or by brush
Is creative
But speaking the same
Is weak
I don’t understand
How not to care

Miniature Paintings

As I grew up
I taught myself to shrink
It was a game to me
‘How small can I get today?’
Now, permanently shrunk
I wonder if I’m like a miniature painting
You’ll look at it
And wonder at how small it is
But you’ll never look at the details
You’ll never seen the work put into it
You’ll pass it without a glance
Now, permanently shrunk
I wonder what
It will take
For people to notice
I am more than just short
More than just cute and ‘child-like’
Now, I wonder
If anyone sees the detail in me


The reason war and love are so alike
Is because both are dances
albeit different types
Love is all about graceful movements
Its falling into each other
And simply staying
You inhale and pirouette
I exhale and glide towards you
We are not synonyms
We are the same
In love we come together
And as love ebbs
We fade away
War is full of harshness
It is organised chaos
Which took someone time to plan
When you inhale I stab you
When I exhale I’m brought to my knees by a knife at my neck
War is a cunning game
Played by the rich
In war we are antonyms
We come together in a fit of madness
And the victor is the one who swallows the other whole
War comes to a stop like a choir without practice
Its sudden and stark
And only then you realise the mangled mess you left behind
War and love are both dances
Separated not only by their circumstances
By also how you and I
Move to different beats