Some people are lights

Glowing,

celestial,

beaming,

Lights

They are lights guiding the way in the thick of all consuming darkness.

They have a soul that wraps you in a warm blanket of calm amongst this world chaos.

Bringing you back to centre, peeling away the external, the distractions and gently forcing you to look within.

Some people are lights

Selfless

compassionate

inspiring

Lights

Encouraging us that no one is too broken to heal,

Everyone deserves to heal.

-JF-

We had the stars, You and I. And this is given once only.

- André Aciman, Call me by your name.

You used her heart as a playground
and then walked away,
leaving nothing but a complete wreck.

It wasn’t a sight anyone wanted to see,
to watch as her spirit broke
under your merciless and callous care.

And you simply shrugged your shoulders
and pretended that all was fine,
and it by doing so, you broke our hearts.

- Ely C. Winters. | @nosebleedclub | Feb. #25

How easy it is,
to sit in silence with you.

How comfortable your presence is
at my side on my living room,
nothing between us save the
empty glasses of our shared drinks.

How easy it is,
to sit in silence with you.

It amazes me, the speed
with which you have made yourself
a permanent feature in my life,
one that is loving and tender.

How easy it is,
to sit in silence with you.

- Ely C. Winters.

It is you, the one with whom I wish to spend
every lazy Sunday morning that I can,
to relish in your warm body against mine
and to shut the world outside our bedroom door,
to pretend it doesn’t exist and it’s simply you and me.

- Ely C. Winters. | Lazy Sunday | @nosebleedclub | Feb. #24

In here, the sounds are so big

They make waves and sea graves

   In the time when you’re gone

The plan wasn’t a concern

Watching the corner dry

With wet tears of elation -

Pain wasn’t it

The right now wasn’t it

  Let the sax play -

It bears repeating, the feel of needing

Someone or something

So simple, and yet

  Precise as a raindrop on

       that singular freckle on a Tuesday in May

As they say, don’t throw

glass at a rock house

  because shattered glass can

Fuck yo’ eye up.

your voice echoed as thunder in the room

I bit my tongue tasting the

metallic twinge of the blood

trying to stop the tears from falling

and it hurts so bad

like a splinter stuck in my finger

It’s been a few months since we created this writeblr but it came to us that we never really introduced ourselves to the community - a mistake, we’ve realised, because there’s so many writers and content creators we still haven’t read the works of!

Starting off, we’re Lady Lazarus and Calypso, teenagers from India who never learnt how to read how to shut up. And this love for spewing nonsense made us realize how we love words that give happiness and comfort to ourselves, and possibly the rest of the world too.

Lady L loves pastel, the sound of chirping birds, journaling, sketching, calligraphy, floral tea and smoothie bowls, poetry by Sylvia Plath, french and indian music and taylor swift’s love story. She prefers roadtrips over hiking and loves the smell of new books.

Calypso loves vanilla scented candles, the sound of kalimbas, the works of Oscar Wilde, milk with a spoonful of honey, music of all genres, the sunrise of a summer morning and seventeen’s fallin’ flower. She’s the type of person who prefers mountains over beaches and the smell of the earth after a thunderstorm.

On this blog, you are likely to find a lot of poetry based on the musings of our lives and a few short stories (and a lot. of. memes.) But worry not! for we have two WIPs under worldbuilding. Both unnamed, both a secret. The first is based of a prompt from a friend, and the second is a Broadway Theatre based series. We wish to be as inclusive as possible and in order to not offend anyone, we’re making sure it’s well-researched and thought out.

Here’s a link to the masterpost of all the work we’ve ever written so far if you’d like to check them out!

The few months over here have been wonderful and opened a new horizon of opinions and lives of people. It also made us realize that we’ve not seen it all either, what we’ve done is merely nothing. We’d love to meet and support a lot of people, and it’d be great if you could boost this up!

(also note that we’re terribly awkward and can barely hold conversations sometimes)

~ Lady L and Calypso

Heart aches are rain storms, unavoidable to your daily struggle

But it has to happen, to make the grass green; to signal affection

the fallen victim

intros of serendipity

cast iron dreams

sinking in the cement

places out of time

caught in its own blood

no more breaks

only full fracture

- serendipity

“I am trying my best everyday, and yet sometimes it still doesn’t happen.”

Do you see, me as me, or the monster you made me to be?

You knew it would hurt me, but you still did it without hesitation.

Are there still beautiful things?

Keep your head above,

those rough waters you are in.

It won’t always rain.

-JF-

Beni yakk.. 🌈

why do older names sound so much better than modern ones. like. Lola? Elinor? Elaine? Beatrice? What??

Nobody has ever left Death
Dripping on their doorstep
With a pink cake box
Concealing some sort of weapon

Thus far, every person
Has answered the reliable knock,
Curious as to who it could be
At this hour, which makes me wonder
What kind of irresistible beat
His boney knuckles must tap
To achieve a perfect response rate

Perhaps it’s “Kokomo” by The Beach Boys,
A crowd favorite,
And quite difficult to recreate
With just knuckles and wood,
But nothing the Lord of Darkness can’t handle

“Shave and a Haircut” would trick most
Into thinking their courteous mailman
Had a package for them
That they didn’t want getting rained on

Or perhaps He customizes the knock
Based on His target’s preference,
Which is also courteous,
Considering it’s the last bit of music
They will ever hear.

Keep me in a room full of

broken hearts ,maybe

then I will shine bright,

In the graveyard of lost souls,

maybe then you will know

where am I ?

And if I go loud and bold

would you notice?

l know you think,

I am just a pretty word, a lucid dream,

but keep me safe and

I will be your muse ,your poetry,

So here ,I am running through

the dark woods of nightmares

in a white dress

maybe this time you will see me?

And the strange feeling in the gut

it’s not all in my head,

So, You better read the letter,

recognise the daisy on top,

because I am half way to

the ocean, where the souls

who love alone dies.

“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”

- Hamlet, Act II