
I tread softly
in your world
mindful of my footsteps
on the fragile glass
of your emotions
fearing the crack
one little slip could cause
breaking my own heart
without blows
without words
in a silence
deeper than
death
© Neetu Malik


Neetu Malik’s poetry is an expression of life’s rhythms and the beat of the human spirit. She draws upon diverse multicultural experiences and observations across three continents in which she has lived. She has contributed to The Australia Times Poetry Magazine, October Hill Magazine, Prachya Review, among others. Her poems have appeared in The Poetic Bond Anthology V and VI published by Willowdown Books, UK, NY Literary Magazine’s Tears Anthology and Poetic Imagination Anthology (Canada).
Her poem, “Soaring Flames”, was awarded First-Place by the NY Literary Magazine (2017). She has also been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, 2019 for her poem “Sacred Figs” published by Kallisto Gaia Press in their Ocotillo Review in May, 2018.
Neetu lives in Pennsylvania, USA.
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Neetu Malik’s poetry is an expression of life’s rhythms and the beat of the human spirit. She draws upon diverse multicultural experiences and observations across three continents in which she has lived. She has contributed to The Australia Times Poetry Magazine, October Hill Magazine, Prachya Review, among others. Her poems have appeared in The Poetic Bond Anthology V and VI published by Willowdown Books, UK, NY Literary Magazine’s Tears Anthology and Poetic Imagination Anthology (Canada).
Her poem, “Soaring Flames”, was awarded First-Place by the NY Literary Magazine (2017). She has also been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, 2019 for her poem “Sacred Figs” published by Kallisto Gaia Press in their Ocotillo Review in May, 2018.
Neetu lives in Pennsylvania, USA.
Hover on the cover for buy links. Click on the cover for more information.

tonight
the silk moon weaves me
into its silver streams
the day
creased and gritty
washed, dried
folded away
this moment
I linger in solitude
caressed by that moon
so perfectly round
eyeing me through
the window
a wink
I think I perceive
the acceptance
lulls me slowly
to sleep
© Neetu Malik

don’t tell me how much
you love me, not now
when days are fragrant
with lavender
and the earth’s pulse
throbs with the beat of every heart
and I hear yours
make no promises when
the scent of moonflowers
rides on the night breeze
through the window
wait until fluttering wings
have flown south
the sky is muted
and snow has padded
the ground
until the air wears
a winter shroud
tell me then how much
you love me
on the longest night
and if you’re still
by my side
© Neetu Malik
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