वो लड़की सुखी है, जिस दमड़ी चाहिए
वो लड़का सुखी है, जिस को चमड़ी चाहिए

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I love my skin,
brown but not like chocolate,
not like coffee,
but sometimes else.

Something, food couldn't describe
No object in the world compares to it.
It shines in the sun,
glows like gold.

It darkens in summer and gets lighter in winter.
I love all the versions.
My arms are darker than my tummy and I love it.

It wasn't easy to get here, but I feel great.
It's a wonderful feeling to feel good in your own skin.
A feeling, I wish everyone could feel.

It can not be formed or defined by other people's opinions, but your own.

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no point really in showing my scar
i guard my skin,
next one ain't far

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Odd thoughts

The devil mind people wear human skin,
Taking birth right from human womb,
Not like baby or child but hoax baby.

That daily dose supplied little by little,
Neither like medicine nor like storm,
But like that very gentle soothing wind.

Yet there lies some surprising facts,
That, devil can also become angel,
If nurtured & taken care of very well.

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The Mirror

I am a mirror, standing still on
damped wall covered with tiles.
Just similar to people covering
sad eyes with happy smiles.

Some try to find their old selves,
some look and see a future star.
Some own it like a badge, while
some conceal their somber scars.

They often ask, mirror o' mirror,
who is the most beautiful of all.
But, all I really want to do is to
show their true selves withal.

Just become your best version
and work diligently on your core.
Beauty is nothing but skin deep.
My darling, you are a lot more.

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Something similar to butterflies in the tummy but much more stronger-
Random sweet touch by your crush is like current passing your body, giving goosebumps not only on skin but deep within!

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She is just a woman with stars in her eyes, storms in her heart, wolves beneath her skin and a love story soul...

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Some "imaginations" cause shivers that slide across the skin, like a drop of cold water on a hot stone.

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what piereced my skin
was actually stitching my wound
oh this 'needle'
i thought you were evil

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Your skin breaks and sticks
The fingers of both my hands.
My eyes are filled with tears
That have never flowed my lips.

You think about what I avoid,
And you ask me the things
I never feel comfortable talking about.

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