Namrata :)
Bio
just wanna be heard
ig: nxmrata
Stories (8/0)
Heartbeat
The beat of the drums are in sequence with her heart. Let's pull her apart. Drop the base and drum real slow, watch her fall vulnerably to the floor. Her heart is weak, no drums to beat it. Let's pull her apart. Turn the stereo down, her breaths are real loud. Quiet the noise, let's listen to her. She whispers through her gasps for air. Whispers the secrets kept in her pockets. The pockets of the pants that don't feel like hers. Whispers the secrets kept in the thread. The thread that lines the sweater that she stole. Stole from the man who ripped it off her. Violently like the beat of the drums on that heavy metal song.
By Namrata :)6 years ago in Poets
Patience in Promises
There's something a little funny about patience. We're always promising ourselves that we will be patient. But here we go, doing things we said we'd wait for. We don't wait for nothing. Do we grab at opportunities with desire? or passion? or with selfishness? Longing for some attention, craving some affection, asking for some reason. It's killing us, we just couldn't wait until that day, and now it's stabbing us in the face. Oh how we've made a mistake. There's no going back, we wrote these promises in all the ink we had, and we can't make them disappear. How do we make them disappear?
By Namrata :)6 years ago in Poets
Enough
I reminisce the days when my feet were above the sand and I was sitting on the swings. I sit there now, feet deep in the ground, drowning the thoughts of my childhood. Dug into the memories of the monkey bars, hanging on to the happy thoughts. The school bell rings, I didn't get a turn on the swings. Run back, sit down, and at the mere age of ten I thought about being good enough. I go home, thrilled to see my little sister and kick with her for a while. Baba didn't come home till late, slept without him most days. I caught a glimpse of him in the morning when I'd wake from nightmares of losing my mother. This was my life on repeat for years. Until I met my first lover and my first abuser. I couldn't differentiate between my dreams and reality. I still can't. I don't know what happened and what didn't.
By Namrata :)6 years ago in Poets
Genuine Breakdown
ARE YOU NOT FUCKING SATISFIED, DON'T LIE TO ME. I SEE IT IN YOUR EYES. I CAN'T GIVE YOU WHAT YOU DESIRE. DOES THAT ITCH THE LONELY IN YOU? DOES IT MAKE YOU CRY THAT YOU'VE SETTLED FOR SOMETHING LESS THAN WHAT YOU COULD HAVE HAD? YOU LIKED, TOUCHED, AND FUCKED HER AND STILL CLAIM TO LOVE ME.
By Namrata :)6 years ago in Poets
