My time

Time is unbelievable.

The clock is unpredictable.

Its hand banging against the wooden frame,

reminding you of what you did in the past.

The mistakes you’ve made, the people you’ve killed by your actions.

what if it all just stopped?

What if I gave time to you?

Will you keep it safe or throw it?

I’d be grateful if you did either.

Because all the calluses and remarks about what to do next are gone.

It’s all in the present.

Remember, I gave time to you?






Dear Mr. Society,

I hope you’re doing well.

My condolences to the one who’s now dead,

because of your invisible rules that killed him inside.

The little girl next door is still ashamed of her self,

So, she hides in despair under her bed.

But, what about the “fat” kid down the street?

Little do you know he has not eaten anything for a week.

Oh, did you forget about the artist in the corner of the town?

Who’s parents wanted him to do what society expected? So, he decided to drown.

What about the kid who does not want to study?

Didn’t you tell him that he’ll never have a livelihood if he does not take things seriously?









Aren’t they your invisible creations? These words, these labels?

But, you don’t want to admit your mistake, you say you’re word is ultimate?

But, here’s a question,

where are you? Mr. Society, where are you?




The point.

The point in everything is nothing. Nothing to see. Nothing to prove. But, words. Proving your point can be said more delicately  by explaining your thoughts in the form of words. To me, poetry is the form of words. And this poetry does not have rhyming words but just meaningful ones.

The points are not the point. The point is poetry. – Allan Wolf

Inside me  

There’s a devil inside me.

It loves my thoughts.

It feeds on hurt, lies and failures.

Reminding me of my mistakes and my faults.

It makes my memories float in my head.

Rewind. Fast forward. Rewind.

Where is the pause button? Maybe broken.

There’s an angel inside me.

It screams positivity into me.

To make me forget about those pathetic people.

Saying that it loves me, that I’m amazing.

Telling me it’s okay to be wrong and that no one is better than me.

But, the truth is, it is the angel who is evil, not the devil.

Because  it’s all just connotations and assumptions.

The angel feeds on flattery and pretty lies.

But the devil feeds on the criticism and the ugly truth.




I’m just another teenage girl on the internet writing about world problems and interests. And by world, I mean mine. Not really. But, that seemed like a nice way to start a blog post. I feel like there are a lot of things we don’t talk about. I want to make this site for those things. What I write about is a secret for now, but not for later. ( And I promise I will write weekly instead of watching Pretty Little Liars or Gossip Girl or How I met Your Mother on Netflix or read ). I want this experience to be fun. I have a weird obsession with stars. Similarly, you might have weird obsessions too (It’s okay to be weird. I’m saying this with experience). See y’all soon. 🙂