Another day sneaks in,
covered in blankets.
It sings miseries of past,
in a heavy baritone.
The melody jars through
my ears, waking me up
from my dreamy present
where stars descend to
greet my lonely nights.

-

The blankets I have
Are not just a combination
Of fluff and cloth but
So much more than that.
It's inanimate
Yet does such an amazing job
At being a replica of your hands,
Replacing your absence,
Embracing me with warmth
And comfort on those days
When I am not able to sleep
At nights, because my brain
And heart is busy, searching
For those long arms to hold me
And those lips whispering
In my ears that everything is
Going to be all ok,
But I am sleeping alone
And drowning in daydreams.

-

If there were no winters, we wouldn't get the happiness we get on getting inside the blanket after a cold long day.

-

winter at its best
me at my worst
hiding away in blankets
is all i want to do
i fear even my tears
might freeze
so i dont dare cry
cracks of cold
has gotten access to my heart
of course, other than you
who would be this generous?

-

Shivering in this cold,
Please come to me and hold.
Wrap me with your charm,
And give me some warm.
I got wrinkled on my lips,
While waiting for your glimpse.
Please make yourself visible,
After which I will be a jovial.

-

If there were no winters,
I would have not fallen in love
with my blankets and sweaters

-

She is standing amidst the January winter nights,
The cold is licking her skin, slowly, and creeping under her tattered clothes, burning all those small cuts and bruises given to her by her so close "Knowns".
Yet she never thought that you will rip her blanket of band-aids off her skin suddenly, which was given to her as a heart felt gift by you. But now she saw the unknown in the known.
The cuts and scars with some new ones have open again, blood is pouring out of her body. But she is so numb to feel the pain again.
Atlast she has surrendered herself in the blanket of pure intoxications of the cold January winter nights, enveloping herself in the world of oblivion.

She is tired of trying to decipher the myriads of "known- Unknown".

-

Quited morning jogs..
Smitten under blankets..
Closed all windows with a tinge of orange sky..
Hot cup of coffee with just you and I

-

Trust - when you know your blanket will keep away the ghosts..

-

Blankets

This blue blanket,
I'm under, is just a
mirage, I realized.
beneath which all
those beautiful and
broken wander in daylight.
Within me, the hour hand
awaits the night
to embrace and put
me to eternal sleep
The only reality-
the black blanket

-