Priya ...
Profile
Chaos, self discovery and successes—naturally writing my musings down seems de rigueur. I thought I might as well share these thoughts.
Thoughts comments etc are always appreciated.
Read at your own peril.
Groups
Priya ... hosts The Red Writing Room and is a member of ! Creative Writing & Poetry !, All Out Emotion, All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical, Beginner's Expressions, Core [C.O.R.E], Everyday Life, Everyday Women, Freedom In Words & Art, Friends of RedBubble, Love Bullets, Masterpieces: Literary Workshop, Short stories - Spherical Scriptings, The Art of Pain, The beauty of poetry, Tuesday Afternoon, Up & Coming Writers and Writing: Persuing Happiness.
Journal Entries
The Red Writing Room
Posted 3 months ago.
How was my day? Please allow me to tell you...
Posted 4 months ago, 11 comments so far.
Jigsaws
Posted 4 months ago, 2 comments so far.
Full moon
Posted 4 months ago, 8 comments so far.
Tomorrow
Posted 4 months ago, 2 comments so far.
...
Posted 4 months ago, 3 comments so far.
Fortuna favet audaci.
Posted 4 months ago, 2 comments so far.
The dark place I sometimes go
Posted 5 months ago, 2 comments so far.
Soundtrack to melancholy
Posted 5 months ago, 13 comments so far.
Writing
Golden lies.
The full moon spurs / the madness / of trying to find ways out / when your hands are tied / and your lips are broken. / You claw at the edges / of your own madness, / the fury once spent / leaves sc…
Awaken
You slide off the stool and stride to the door without looking back to see if he is following you. And when you feel his hands on your hips. You know he has.
If only
if only I could, / find my way out / of this broken teacup / housing my heart. i would / drink you up / and you would be my / ambrosia.
In the beginning
It began / as a lark / before long / I was ever so / captivated You left / nothing behind- / not even / the echo of your / footsteps
Embedded
why fiddle / with mere / pins / have you / forgotten / your dagger / still lies / embedded / in my / heart
Where the Fisherboy lives
My grandparents’ house used to sit on a corner plot. / It sat there in the corner- a piece of paradise separated from the chaos and confusion of Chennai by a neat white wall and the unruly hyd…
