”It’s over”, you say it so casually. I don’t know how to respond back to you. I instantly lean back on my elbow, my chest still pounding from the orgasmic bliss you left me with. I urge you to silently look into my eyes and give me an explanation. You turn on the rickety bed, the curve of your back exposed, prop your elbow, one hand precariously holding onto the cigarette that you so crave after we fuck. You take a long drag, god you are so fucking sexy when you do that and stare at me with hooded eyes, your eyes dart towards my lips and I wet them unconsciously. I wonder if you would kiss me now, kiss me like you do sometimes, as if I mean something to you. Instead you raise your delicate hand and grip my chin, trace my face with your soft fingertips and caress my hair. I would be a fool to believe that there was something more to your touches, something which I have been feeling for a long time. You suddenly get up, the rough cotton sheets pooling at your feet. You are naked underneath, naked and glorious and I dare hope all mine now. “Its over between me and him,” you say again. Finally, finally you said what I was hoping you would one day. What I had dreamed for so long. You lean on the windowsill, the early morning sunlight painting your sculpted curves a shade far lovelier than any creature I have gazed upon. Looking at you, my heart always swells with something, something suspiciously like love. I knew it was futile to hope, but I ardently wished that you had left him for me. Gods above, all those mixed signals you were giving me had to mean something, didn’t they? I take a deep steadying breath and get out of the bed and touch your shoulder gently, tugging your body towards mine. I crush my lips to yours; my taste still lingering on the tip of your tongue. I let go of you only to hold your waist as gently as I could. Your gaze is sharp, primal and I wouldn’t lie but it turned me on. It was now or never. “So it means, ‘we’…?”
You cut me off with a frown pulling down your bow shaped lips. “No”. You say so resolutely. I am taken aback as if you had slapped me. “What? Why?” I whisper. You look at me as if I was a fool for asking you such a stupid question. “Why?!”, you enunciate slowly as if talking to a child. “What we have,” you gesture between us, “it’s just fucking, sorry I don’t do love honey. “I instantly back off, of course, it wasn’t love, of course you couldn’t love me. I was a warm and willing body for you, a body you could do anything with, and my heart, you took it and crushed it. I stumble back towards the bed, reeling back from my reality. I sit on it, unseeing. You approach me cautiously, as if I would break if you breathed so much as near me, “Please don’t tell me you have feelings for me.” You ask sharply. “You knew what this was”, I could only look back at you mutely. Of course It was going to happen one day, you were going to leave me just as you left him. Stupid, stupid, I was; a goddamn fool. I can see you moving quickly about the motel room, picking up your clothes and shoes. “Listen, it’s best that we don’t see each other for a while”, you say quietly and I couldn’t agree more. “If you change your mind, you know how to find me.” And just like that you leave, slamming the door on your way. No goodbye, no promises, I was left all alone, used up, looking at the cheaply painted door and cursing myself. It doesn’t end well, love doesn’t.


WingsofDelight ©




Your imprint is seared inside me, burning and fraying my fragile nerve endings, it’s as if you have never left, your rotten essence still lingers in the shards of my brokenness. Your foul stench clinges to my heart, it’s as if you still suck out and feed on my powerless being, it’s as if you still inhale the same stale air as I. You rip me apart, and you relish in my muffled screams, you want me to remember the pain, you want me to remember the taste of your name on my lips. You devour the way I whisper for you to ‘Please stop’, it spurs you on, my suffering always turned you on. Your monster still haunts the graveyard where my soul has long since retreated to seek respite. Your presence reeks of greed, you are dauntless in your pursuit, your grabby hands still wrap around my neck, squeezing and taking the light away from my eyes, just as cruelly as I know you enjoyed. You never knew how to touch gently, the wreaths of blooming bruises don’t tell quite the story, covered up as they are, just like your debauchery. You are sheathed within me, that dirty little part of me that still doesn’t know how to speak about you, about an ‘us’ which was all you and your morbid lust. This part of me doesn’t quite know how to even begin to recount your horror, the part that still feels that rough tugging in my scalp, phantom pain of a rough hand gripping my then long hair and twisting it, reaching down towards my soul and twisting it, changing me and tainting me.

You are the one thing I am ashamed of, your power over me doesn’t fade away, even when I scratch and tear at myself. You have settled beneath my skin, the fetid rot of your being dwelling in those shallow and deep cuts you made to mark me as yours. I was yours to be painted in blood, bathe in the curses you said I deserved. I was your lover, I was also your bitch, a glorified slave chained to your whims. I still feel the drying seed of your misdeeds on my scarred thighs, my body was for your pleasure and now the pain I feel in my core, is all mine. I am repulsed by the way you have left me, your absence doesn’t bring me any comfort, my skin still tastes like your sins, my eyes still shed bitter tears for all those unspeakable things you did to me. I can still taste you, can still taste your evil on the tip of my tongue, still feel the raised surfaces of the criss crossed scars forming a grotesque labyrinth carved on my body. You are there, buried deep inside of me, ravaging me from within. You are a disease, a plague, you leave me with festering pain, blistering like your unworthy touch. I try to wash away those ghostly fingertips that no longer pry me open, but somehow they still grip my flesh, tearing into it, feasting on my helpless pleas. I hate the way you have won, I hate the way my body had surrendered to yours. You plundered and took never giving me anything but intense hurt in return. You have left me alone, but it’s as if you have never ever gone away. You still move within me, lurking, waiting for my vulnerability to show through for you to prey upon. You will be here, forever a part of me, a part I loathe with all the viciousness my being can muster. But what kills me the most, what cuts me deeper than all those wounds you left me with, is that you will be here, the slippery and harsh voice in my ear, the cruel hold on my battered self, you will be here, when all those parts of me, those untouched by your filth, those that I hope to salvage, are gone.

-WingsofDelight ©

I am, You.


I am just like you, all of you, all at once. I am the million emotions that dance so ceaselessly in your eyes, the smiles that flit from one face to another, the frowns that you grace others with, the tears you cry when you think no one watches you, I am the anger that simmers underneath the surface of your fake porcelain smiles, the resentment you feel, the disappointments that cloud your happiness, I am the pain that you desperately try to hide. I am a thousand thoughts, countless dreams of nameless faces. I sag and wither like the guilt you feel, I droop down like the despair which makes you hollow and haunted, yet I also rise like the hope you feel each day, what is yours, is also mine. I am each of you and each of none, the tiny broken pieces of your illusions, or the prickling shards of your honesty and truth. I am the bitterness of your jealousy, and the haze of your lust. I see you, living your fast lives, I see your masks of indifference, of half truths and half lies. I see how you live, in shadows, playing at cloak and dagger, I see the fumes of suffocation creeping along the persona you have built around yourself, you try to blend in, yet I still hear your silent shouts of ‘ notice me’ , ‘don’t let me rot away and die’. So I become you, the one you try so hard to shield and protect. I have to live like you to make you, each tale resurrecting your love, your heart and your situations.
Each time I write of you , I have to kill the parts of me that aren’t you, to understand you, I have to be your lover, your love, sometimes the one who cheated on you, or the whom you cheated upon. I am a million strings, untethered, I am a wanderer in search of the dreams I see in your eyes, I travel to find your homes for you in each tale I spin. I tangle your lives with my bloodline, because in that infinite second I have seen you, the real you, I have seen the raw emotions flowing through your veins, those that you couldn’t hide from a stranger, a faceless mask, who knew just what to look for. I find so much in you, the bad, the wonderful, the hurtful, all those shades of anger, of deep longing, of exhaustion, of greed, of life, of zeal and of immense courage. I see your needs, of not going unnoticed, the fear of being useless, the abject hunger to be recognised, and then I write of you, those who can’t be unseen once seen, then I write of the real you, the one who doesn’t want to be washed away from the sands of time, I write of you, for you, all of you.



Look Up


It’s a leech.
Sucking on our brains. Draining us out, yet pulling us deeper into it.

It’s a leech.
An irresistible one, the sweetest dessert on the menu and the mouth filling cheese stuffed pizza we are addicted to.
We’re it’s consensual slaves. We pay it to keep us obsessed.

It’s a getaway for us, to get sucked into an oblivion- the dearest mask we endure to conceal ourselves from everything real.

It’s a leech.
Killing us slowly. Destroying our happiness by making us believe it is happiness.
Cutting us apart from the candour of life.
It’s the device you’re reading this on;
That has snatched away your first goodmorning wishes from your loved ones.
Your real life is just one decision away from you,
Slavery or Look Up?

Wings of Delight©

To the Heartbroken


I heard that you’re…settled down..that you..found a girl and you’re married now….

How many of us experience a hurt rush when we start hearing this song? Do you feel like hitting the next button on your phone? Or do you simply appreciate the music? Or do you just listen to it, gasp in the sadness of the meaning and cry a little bit each time you listen to it?
I do. I listen to it and remember how I felt when I was heartbroken. Dipping into random oceans of nostalgia and regrets and insecurities; seeing your ex with someone else being the worst one.
It sucks to have your heart broken. See it break all at once in front of your eyes and feel so helpless because there’s nothing you can do to change things, undo things, nothing at all. It sucks to know that
‘We could have had it all.’
Puffy eyes due to crying all night, giving up on your apetite, resisting yourself from connecting to the one you love in any way, stalking the hell out of their social media profiles and moreover accepting your present, regretting not seeing his bad qualities before; most of us have been there.
Of course, dealing with a heart break has its own perks. I remember becoming stronger, and more alert. The guy I was in love with was practically a jerk throughout but as they say “love is blind” and I just couldn’t see it. Only when I hit the ground I realized how I risked damaging my self worth, my confidence and my feelings for someone who wasn’t worth it.
But in some cases the ones you damage your heart for are absolutely worth it but you lose them because of your stupidity or because of several other reasons. It sucks doesn’t it? I’m sure half of the people who were reading this article have given up because they don’t want to go in that past lane again.
For some, crying never stops. Their ex lovers become a part of their being and it takes someone really special to dig that part out and make them happy yet again.
Dealing with a heart break isn’t easy, it’s harder than any bad experience you thought was difficult to deal with because it involves your heart. A fraction of people are lucky to get the right ones at the right time, but the rest? We’re just learning to become stronger. And that’s okay. Because we will. And we do. And you know what’s the best part? Whatever happened has happened for the good. After all Adele too has found the One hasn’t she?

So here’s to the heart-broken, to the ones who are dealing with a heartbreak right now, to the ones who have come out stronger than they have ever been before.

Here’s to you. Here’s to you.

I just want to tell you that you are going to get through this, for good
and you’ll find only the right ones waiting for you at the end of your sadness. Just let it go. You have to let yourself let go.

-Wings of Delight©

The Storm


I see a storm in front of me,
Swirling along the wind, Dancing to the tunes of anger and guilt;
It moves like a tornado
t edhat has lost it,
destroying everything it touches
and absorbs every pain.

It sings the sound
of silence,
Oh so quiet, and peaceful,
you can never know when it’s
waiting to ravage you.
You can never know
what its hiding.

I see a storm in front of me,
intoxicated by itself,
maddened, yet calm
Ugly, yet beautiful
Lonely, yet powerful.

I see it moving and
I see a silhouette in it,
a silhouette so distinct
it appears known,
I look closer and see a soul,
a beautiful scarred one,
waiting to explode,
waiting to embrace the storm,
I look closer and
realise the storm is me,
and baby, I will destroy you.

-Wings of Delight©

Picture Credits: Nick Steward (insta handle @nickdrewart)

A huge Thanks to Mr. Stewart, for such a beautiful artwork💜 it was indeed an amazing collaboration.


love come knocking2 1

You will find her in all those places, when you aren’t really looking. Hidden in the tiny alcove in that dusty library you never bothered to go to, curled up in the tattered wooden seat, reading her favourite book of romantic tradegies. You will find her where you least expect her to be, rummaging through old records, classical music blasting through her shiny new headphones, her rocker chic boots peaking underneath a modest green skirt. You’ll see her on the street, her dyed hair flying this way and that, she will seem a bit clumsy, balancing a stack of comics and a steaming cup of coffee. You’ll always pass her shop on the way to work, when she just opens her bakery and you catch yourself smiling in her direction. You sit besides her, in the too overcrowded train, her inquisitive eyes seeking out stories amongst her fellow passengers that only an observant eye could unearth. Ofcourse, you won’t fall for that clumsy girl, spending all her free time immersed in the fantasy that comics provide. Ofcourse, you won’t fall for that girl who loves classical music yet is spunky enough to give you a run for your money, you won’t fall for that girl you see on your way to work, the one you smile at unconsciously. You won’t fall for that girl, that you occasionally bump into, or share 20 minutes of your commute with. Ofcourse, you won’t fall, because you aren’t looking, you aren’t looking for romance, but love doesn’t come calling with a voicemail to warn you about it’s arrival, it comes whether you want to accept it’s presence or not. Oftentimes it knocks on the door to your heart, when you really aren’t looking. So look, look closer, look into the eyes of the girl whose cheek is always smeared with soft flour, the one you secretly smile at, the one whom you think is too unattainable, too geeky, too spunky, too romantic or the one you seem to always meet. Listen to the girl sitting besides you in the train, chattering about her day. Does it feel like love has come knocking on your door? Does it sound like love?