A woman who built her world from broken pieces and swore never to need anyone again. Nisha Sen didn't do love. She didn't do attachment. She didn't even do friendship. Until Ayaan Malhotra walked into her life. Thrown together for a months-long project. He fell first. And she... denied every feeling she wasn't ready to name.

Here you'll find a collection of thoughts I never said out loud. Three years of poetry, with heartbreaks, healing, and little joys. I'll share the ones that stayed with me. I hope you find something that feels familiar.

Books I'm writing or that I am planning to.

She was what you would call a 'goodie two shoes'. Always eager to help. So, when the newcomer came and found himself isolated, she felt it was her duty to help him. But sometimes when you see a person alone, there's a good reason. Sometimes, you just have to lock that over-caring attitude in a dark cage and pass by, before all of you is trapped in that cage. ''I wish I could turn back. I wish I could tell that idiot to turn away, to run. But I can't. She's already lived though it. She's already faced pain, death. She's already faced the madness.'' All because that newcomer had a wish. ''Will you kill me please?'' ***** This is psychological horror. There is nothing related to ghosts or zombies or anything otherworldly. There are only real humans.

You know shit is hitting the fan when you live each day under the threat of having your body oblitarated and letting starvation hollow your cheeks. And you know all hell's broken loose when you get face to face with your country's worst nightmare. It was a normal day - huddling in a cave, hearing explosions. Then it became unormal when the Sensōya found our hiding place. It was the Emperor who found us. There was only one way I could save my life... "I can write your story!" ...I jumped into hell.

A collection of poems on death and the such. *** Let's meet where the laments howl, and the cries echo Ready your heart and your soul, for it is no meeting for the mellow Go down the left path of Hell, the one that rarely forgives Let's meet where the ghost's bloody ball forever lives. ***

A collection of poems.

~ nature poems, mostly ~

~ dream fuel ~

~ from when i cared about the world ~