You must read, but you should also know about other ways. — It is not a new discovery that writers need to enrich themselves in order to grow. Writers have to keep updating their knowledge database, at least in their specific fields or genres, but not limiting themselves to that. It is also important that we know what is going on around…

A Prose Poem — The night before I died, they say I was more silent than usual. I was a fairly bubbly girl, so, yes, my silence is unusual. I can understand their judgements. But no, I was not silent. I was the loudest, the most chaotic. I was struggling to keep quiet. Grappling…

Healing does not have a deadline. — Healing does not have a deadline. It is not up to anyone to set it for the one who has been hurt. It is a journey, and journeys have destinations, not deadlines. In healing, there is only black and white. You heal or you do not. There is no halfway…

When the edges become visible… — I blink - once, twice, thrice — my wooden lids are heavier by nature; my wooden eyes opaque. The strings — frayed, strained, faint — seem invisible; no, the opacity has nothing to do with it. A bruise — sore, mean, blue-green — the reasons feel as thick as dreams doomed wooden…

Poetry Sunday — Raindrops needle through my petals, splice through my parched heart — I can see you smile in the dark night, I can see the bygone dreams again... I can find myself in love songs — something I didn't dare for long. The canopy of my joy is made of dark clouds…