i lift my head to turn right and I see a standing piece prominent.
am I allowed to look? to stare at it nonstop ? to uncover and turn a blind eye to people's mishaps? is it right ?
i laugh at myself once more as I still stare at the standing piece not knowingly. like it's become a habit that I see what I'm not supposed to see and ask what I am not to ask of either or the worst of it turn a blind eye, then reminisce about it over and over again.
I am a cuboid evenly not the same. My characters are beyond many, I feel like a fraud lately. I am a contrasting piece of peace and upset. A beautiful harmony that scares even myself. I am a glued broken piece. A shattered mirror of fire and air. Soaked in blood and tears. I call my mind to ransom. Ransacked.
@writersnetwork thanks team for the support and encouragement you always showered on me *-*
Thank you everyone! Pardon me for not reading you all from past a month I guess, life turned hectic and I feel suffocated here but I can't leave this place . I'm trying my best to read like I used to before. I sucks due to constant headaches and emotional breakdowns. I'm trying to cope up with this all to be strong to fight and to again respire spells of love on you all. Hope you all understand my situation :-) thank you so much for being here . It somewhere breaks my heart that many left and very few are here those whom I know. And the beautiful new users here, my name is Sanam no need to call me Ma'am. I'm a learner like you all I'm not someone who is an actual writer. Please be normal. Formalities scares me , much love <3
Give me the instagram aesthetic love. I've never slept under the sun in fields, with grass singing melodies of heartbreak springs, lie with me, for you I might. The waters glimmer like your pearly soul, but I never dare to step in, never did I purify, sanctify my soul, ask me to, for you I might. Give me the boring love. I want to empty buckets of ice cream watching movies, crying shamelessly looking at dogs, sit in the couch, messy as my mind, instead of emptying mascara bottles, instead of dressing up but ending up regretting my life choices. Ask me to, for you I might do that too. Give me the trusting love. Get mad at me for buying a 10th dog or 5th cat, and let me, witness you love them more than you love yourself, because for you I might. I dont know, how to pluck stars, steal flowers, or run naked on streets for a bet, but I'll give you, a cracking hearth winter, sleeping til noon summers. Give me the cliche love The one of playing your favorite songs when you're not around, because for you, I might. Know all your sins, show you all my crimes, but love anyway, Bonnie and Clyde. Give me the extraordinary love. You. For you I'll do the same.
People single to an unhealthy extent mustn't write such posts. But fuck that. Im gonna mock this place until they cry. Miraquill enough?
There's a river flowing Loud and fertile within me, My epidermis is a fossil Of engraved touches I've preserved all over The years; my insides are a Bloodshed of flowers I have Always tried to stuff into my Bones: I am not a single entity Mostly I feel like I am Composed of fragile things Found on earth, My overgrown roots overspread Trying to grasp in Whatever my palms could hold of, I have knees covered in weeds, And bruises, from falling over and over, My hands are little branches, Which birds perch upon, The colour of peace is enveloped over my body, Sunshine plays with my hair, Sometimes I collect tragic thunderstorms and pin them over my braids My womb bears young ones With colours of my roof, That changes every moment, Tenderly I nurture them, Along the birds, But I've to let them all go, Some sooner, some a little early. I'm trapped in deep Tunnels of thoughts, Whilst my hands are cut, As my torso falls on Inconsolable carcasses of My hair, and Corpses of my children, Motionless, I lay there, My heart still pounding, Not silent, but loud Like the river flowing Inside me, within and without.
October arrived early this morning, A superstar in gucci gold robes, Whispering sweet promises of a full stacked granary before the Sun's nightly slumber. My thoughts wander towards the empyrean, a flamboyant enchantress dressed in cobalt blue, she floats and sings the bashing Sun a serenade, I think I feel the tip of my ears burning. The birds, in jubilation, breaks into a chorus of hallelujahs, a tune that sets my heart racing. It is morning like this Peace finds me, beneath the wizened tree in sweet repose, when the Earth's a tranquil mother, waking to the sound of her children's laughter. She smells of damp soil and rosemary thyme, a concoction my nostrils in acceptance sniffs to. And so I sit in awe, tasting the bliss of solitude on my tongue's tip while the lone leaf the old tree clings to, dreams of a spring that was promised to him.