Cruising Alone

There was a time when I was deeply sceptical of sharing my voice—my words, ideas, and most vulnerable thoughts. The fear of being judged, misunderstood, or rejected loomed over me like a shadow. But writing, especially journaling, has always been my safe space, a refuge where I could pour out my raw emotions and untangle the clutter of my mind. In the quiet of my pages, I could breathe freely, without fear of judgment or interruption. Journaling became a way to create and reflect—an intimate practice that allowed me to unravel the layers of limiting beliefs and negative patterns I didn’t even know I carried. It was through this act of letting my soul bleed into the paper that I began to see the truth of who I was, the places I was holding myself back, and the strength I had all along. No wonder they say the pen is mightier than the sword; words, after all, can move mountains. I’ve always been in awe of artists and painters whose emotions leap off the canvas, and whose work speaks in wa...

  I will bleed in poems, Because my hands are tied, Society says I cannot raise them, Not against the men who hide Behind their masks of change, of light, The flag bearers of a false bright. These men, who won't hesitate To shame me when I lay bare, When I love, when I admire, They'll mock my soft, tender care. But they'll never confess their lustful gaze, Chasing after dozens in a daze. They claim they don’t want to harm, But slowly, they snuff out my flame, Feeding their egos with words like knives, It's as if I’m just a piece in their twisted game. Yes, I lash out, shallow remarks, But not with the venom they leave as marks. I feel the weight of your words, The sting behind each blow, A victory, not for justice or love, But to keep your fragile ego aglow. ~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse

  Once a child, lost in tales and rhyme, In the shadow of great poets’ time. Their words like stars, guiding my quest, To craft my own, to write, to express. First, I learned, to follow the rules, A quest for mastery, the poet’s tools. Then I wandered, beyond those bounds, In words, I found, where freedom resounds. Poems were kept, within my soul, A secret release, an unspoken goal. But as others spoke, their voices clear, I shared my verses, dispelling fear. Anonymous hopes, for hearts to find, A solace in words, a kindred mind. Gradually bold, I embraced my name, No longer hidden, no longer the same. Pride in my heart, for the verses I make, A journey of growth, for my own sake. Hoping one day, my words may ignite, Another’s path, in the quiet of the night. Connected we are, in this poetic span, A cycle of hearts, in the words of man. From one to another, inspiration flows, In the endless cycle, where creativity grows. ~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse