AC (16 Nov 1953 / Jammu)

The Blood That Pores Out Of My Body

Is the blood that i have scratched out of my skin,
the blood is the stuff that comes out of my nails
from biting them so much for being nervous,
when you come online,
for the times were i talked
to you but its not you,
its a guy i don't recognize but its your face

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Comments (2)

hey arti... i can relate to this poem of yours.. i guess most of us have a problem differentiating between faith n rituals... if one doesnt follow da superficial rituals of a religion, it is smhow assumed that he/she is not a believer! ! nice write  regards asma…
Yes, you are absolutely right! you know i read 3 of your poems back to back and I'm loving them: D Preets