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Violet Inkwoods Blog
When they sold themselves to laptops and phones, I sat aside with a quill in my hand writing about how they faded away into the corners. All about writing, poetry, relationships and general interest.
4 Am
2017-10-23 12:16
He wasn’t among those who drunk called me at 4 am asking me to keep waiting for their horses to arrive at my doorstep someday when it rains. He madly asked to me to ride his at night… Read More
Hangover Rhyme.
2017-10-22 06:22
It is hard to think, My brain’s jammed rusted; I can’t feel half of it, the other half pains. I see two images of everything, one of them blurred. It got worse when I spilled ke… Read More
A Table For Two.
2017-10-21 07:07
A table for two. Two chairs, me and you. You’re dressed in black, I am too. Yours is a little darker than I can tell you. Life takes turns you can take one too. But as soon as you do… Read More
2017-10-18 19:15
We’re all stuck. Stuck into a large web of our thoughts, desires, dreams, duties and the affection that is showered upon us. Most of our actions in a day, depend upon the factors that… Read More
2017-10-15 18:27
I think you should stop. Stop chasing me with your fingertips over the keyboard. Stop tracing your pen over pages white and yellow, over leaves, pebbles, desks and what not. You drive everyb… Read More
2017-08-18 18:47
You cut the call without a goodbye. She grabs your collar and pushes her lips against yours. You lose the grip and the phone fell. You touch her in places you’ve touched me too. Your b… Read More
2017-07-05 13:26
Happiness is a street full of people watching you sip your perfect lemonade in a balcony you fit yourself perfectly in. A mansion has always made a mind vulnerable. I am the lemonade the fit… Read More
2017-06-23 17:04
I have known not a word which is said more than it is unsaid. What made me say this, remains unsaid too. Introduce yourself to some of the words I say in a next few lines and think of a plac… Read More
2017-06-04 15:25
‘No, I haven’t known you since ages. You’re not the uncle who is next of kin, or a man I’ve forgotten a face of. Then why did you wipe the packet of chips clean, the… Read More
2017-06-03 17:01
I’ll stop by your doorstep, every night at nine; And tell you about my love, and that you were mine. Let me drag you to walls, push your lips against mine; And let me stop by your door… Read More

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