Making love With Pain


Hide them,

In your dark folds,

And layers.

To be relished

At leisure,

With care.

Or grill them,

In the raging bonfire

And devour them,

With a burning desire.

Or drown them.

With ice,

In a cocktail of despair.

Down them,

To get high

On misery and torment.

Or better,

Pour them on the paper

Dress them,

In jargons, dapper.

Let the dark ink flow free.

Let your wounds bleed,

Let it rain.


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Written by Sanjukta Ghoshal

A wallflower that likes her own little nook,

Has her head in the clouds, or often in books,

She has a day-job for a living, but she writes to live,

A recluse, but she's a good friend, if you could just believe!

Ps. When she's not scribbling, she likes to paint or cook.

Laments of an erratic soul!

Mellow vibes