Author: Prena subba
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Bring human.
we live in a diorama of a preceding horror—writing down stories, witnessing stories and becoming stories as this colossal art of longings continue to haunt us; it’s like a hundred fists clasping within, all unable to describe the conundrum of a human mind. most of us have loved, and been loved in softness and terror—tendered…
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Sepia
i have got a feeling this lately and i have been trying to figure out the color of it, not that feelings come in definitive colors but it’s not something blue that i feel. it’s like a palette of yellow, somewhat white and lilac purple, it is pale orange too; like the slanting rays of…
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golden
“i still remember the quietness in between our conversations, the long lonely eyes of yours and daisies on your dress. the scars under your sleeves; traumas of a burnt child that now masters the fire. i still remember how much of a magic you were, until the day you quietly ran away—tired of dancing over…
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The Last Love Letter I Never Sent
Dear Milan, A friend of a friend told me that you had been in love with me. Another friend told me that you were a beautiful human. You believed in the art of first eye contact. You believed in the magic of resilience and redemption from the gods. The world through your eyes mustn’t have…
Prena Poetry 