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Sweta

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Some days are hard, I find myself writing and backspacing. I find myself writing about backspacing. Writer's Block? May be :') Is this even worth your pokes!? Marble Hornet 💜 Ananya Dasghosh

Some days are hard, I find myself writing and backspacing. I find myself writing about backspacing. Writer's Block? May be :') Is this even worth your pokes!? Marble Hornet 💜 Ananya Dasghosh

Epiphany 🖤

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People are obsessed with happy endings to escape reality. I prefer sad endings more, I don't know. I guess it becomes more realistic. Marble Hornet 💜 thanks for the poke 🌻 Pic credits :- Pinteres

People are obsessed with happy endings to escape reality. I prefer sad endings more, I don't know. I guess it becomes more realistic. Marble Hornet 💜 thanks for the poke 🌻 Pic credits :- Pinteres

Abhishek 'रैबारि' Gairola

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HOVER You are the lingering feeling that is perpetually hovering over my head, like a killer hornet, whom I can't ignore. The buzzing of its unnatural, translucent wings producing a trepidation deep inside my core, making my feeble frame shudder with angst. In lieu, if I engage with it, I know forsooth, it will sting me and make me virulent. The stinger that was remained inhumed, bleeding its poison, oozing its pleasure, tardily, in my stream and my soul, still penetrated, in my flesh somewhere, paralyzing my frail body and, arresting my wee thoughts, with the soft warmth of the sweet torpor while the foreboding of the impending doom lies in wait. ©Abhishek 'रैबारि' Gairola #kitaabein HOVER You are the lingering feeling that is perpetually hovering over my head, like a killer hornet, whom I can't ignore. The

HOVER You are the lingering feeling that is perpetually hovering over my head, like a killer hornet, whom I can't ignore. The buzzing of its unnatural, translucent wings producing a trepidation deep inside my core, making my feeble frame shudder with angst. In lieu, if I engage with it, I know forsooth, it will sting me and make me virulent. The stinger that was remained inhumed, bleeding its poison, oozing its pleasure, tardily, in my stream and my soul, still penetrated, in my flesh somewhere, paralyzing my frail body and, arresting my wee thoughts, with the soft warmth of the sweet torpor while the foreboding of the impending doom lies in wait. ©Abhishek 'रैबारि' Gairola #kitaabein HOVER You are the lingering feeling that is perpetually hovering over my head, like a killer hornet, whom I can't ignore. The