Byju V

The artist,
exhilarating in the brutal beauty of
self-imposed pain that is art.
Tasting with relish,
...

Safe for now….
The writer finished the book;
Now comes the hard part;
First the scrutiny by the experts -
...

Thrown face down
On a heap of waste
Was the book, the old one,
I had read when the dreams were still so colourful,
...

I think, how words change,
meanings and forms.
Once I asked her, how
the moon got this big burn in its face,
...

Her sharp polished nails, red as oozing blood,
traversing through my back, feel like the cold long edge of the knife.
I lie here on the bed, failing to catch
the excited music of little birds, that always float around
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I stare at the tea stain,
a broken circle, frayed edges,
sketching an abstract painting in the sparkling table-top.
The scalded tongue,
...

'No friends. No one to trust.
Nothing to believe in.
Everything hangs in midair
Meaningless.
...