Rotten Fragrance

My heart is like a ripe raw fruit
bursting with passion
overflowing with fragrance

reaching for the sky
and blooming with desire

but sometimes…

like a withered flower
brown, hollow
shrivelled

lost.

Posted in Poetry.

6 Comments

  1. geekisiddiqui: 🙂 Aw shucks. And update is on the way.

    Aasia: Thankyou:) I think I can. Its like I suddenly don't know how to write…I began and then I erased and then began again. strange.

    OH: haha, I thought indians dont do ballet? *tried to imagine you doign a pirouette* 😀 Sometimes, sometimes its all deadlike.

    h: Thankyou

    SBM: You're right – there is no proper bloggin but I think it has a structure tha entails some details of your life. Yes, i read that recently, such a shame. Imagine living with history like that over your head.

  2. what is proper blogging?
    i like it when you get all sylvia plath (but not in that i-think-i'll-go-stick-my-head-in-an-oven-now way, coz you're too dewy for that)
    hey, did you hear, her son committed suicide recently.

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