Mirakee
:):
There are stars in my smile
And they form small constellations to hold onto people.
My comfort and trust were travellers,
Staying in anyone, who shows a flicker of care.
Maybe my hollowness was full of itself
And I had no room to share.
Comfort now shivers in a dark corner,
Refusing to come out and soak reality.
Trust comes home once a year, shakes its head
And takes a U-turn
But not before promising another visit.
It tells me,
"If upto me, I would've cut all ties,
But my lover, hope, thinks it ain't right."
Insecurities tip-toes in the room as I write,
Hand in hand with its best friend, doubt.
They sparkle their magic glitter and I feel dizzy,
All that is not me, shines bright.
So bright I thought I'm black and hollow.
Oh wait. I am.
And as the dizziness disappears,
It takes away a little of me with it.
Somedays pride, somedays confidence.
Today though, a gust hollers from my favorite window,
The only clean and pure thing in this room
And as I try to digest the fact
That the last good thing inside is about to get tainted;
The window overhauls the hollers to sounds
And I feel it before I see it, loneliness.
I close my eyes and wait for sadness and fear to come through,
But they don't.
I see light, blinding light,
At midnight.
I see stars of my smile, smiling in their own light.
Then, loneliness makes a sound
And everything falls into place.
©winter_dreams
winter_dreams
-
winter_dreams
17w
Read MoreHello everyone. I'm back. Kinda? Did y'all miss me?
Okay. So I have a lot to say. I missed mirakee soooo much.
I forgot how I could write whatever I want here.
I've been a lil antisocial lately. It's like a lot of things making sense all at once and it gets a lil too much sometimes .
I feel guilt, embarrassment, resent, regret but the feeling that gave me the final push to download mirakee again was...
I realized that we're all alone, fighting our own battles in this world and for the first time this doesn't scare me or makes me sad. I don't know. For the first time in forever, I don't feel like I need someone's attention. I'm happy having my own attention.
Here's a piece from the mess of my ocean :)
#mirakee #writersnetwork -
winter_dreams
38w
Read More
Ab - Normal?
This is not a writeup.
This is my heart bleeding the only way it knows.
I've never felt like I truly belonged somewhere.
I never felt I'm one of the crowd.
And I wanted to. For so so long.
It started a long time ago too.
My parents used to work and on days when I had to be picked up from school,
There were often miscommunications.
I used to watch parents come and children go with them.
More so often than not I was the last one to go home.
I've never felt like I'm normal.
I can stand in between group of people and
I'll always have this feeling
They all have something in common, every last one of them, that I don't.
And that's why they communicate so casually.
I always felt left out.
I've had trust issues even before I knew the meaning of this term.
I don't have anyone to call my home. No friends I can really call my true friends.
You'll often find me mingling, smiling, making conversations
But I'll never tell them what's on my mind.
My throat refuses to let those words out of the cage.
What if my thoughts, feelings, emotions are weird, different, not normal?
I've tried making peace with the fact I don't know how to hold people in my life.
They always slip away.
All of the people surrounding me know this secret
The key to my insecurities.
They know or they fake confidence amazingly.
Some days, most days, I feel ashamed of my own thoughts.
I feel ashamed of loathing me.
Other days, I pick myself up and move on.
I tried talking to people, random strangers and failed.
I don't really know what I want anymore.
I don't really know what is normal anymore.
-Juhi
( i knowwww. I may or may not remove it soon.
I knowww. I'm like the worst one for not replying to you people. I'm fine. Kind of. Thank you for caring. I hope you all are too.).
-
winter_dreams
49w
Close your eyes and cry,
Sing softly and don't ask me why.
©winter_dreams -
winter_dreams
49w
Read More
I sometimes forget how tangled I am.
I sometimes forget how okay it is to be so.I've three years worth of tears left to cry
It's time to be on my own
I've been sputtering apologies straight for years now
I thing it's time to forgive myself before I'm far too gone.
©winter_dreams -
Heal
I'm coming to terms with a lot of things these days.
I don't miss people, I miss what I was when I was with them,
The extremely pure power of positively and determination I possessed.
I guess we spend most of our life earning respect and chasing love,
I think the most we need is to close our eyes and feel the respect from our hearts reflecting in our minds.
I've been told I speak a lot less these days, I work a little more, I think a little more, I feel a little more.
Some random part of a book I read a long time ago hit me suddenly today, at a random hour and I had a good cry.
I bid a little more farewell, I felt a little less.
I realised people around me are a little less different than me and I expected to feel the content of normalness,
But all I felt was a sharp slap of logic and a warm hug of desires to be my own self.
I look inside and feel hate sometimes,
Sometimes I am amazed I am still standing,
Sometimes it's pure confusion.
But I'm not numb anymore.
It's a tiny step,
But a step nonetheless.
The above lines don't relate to each other
And it brings me comfort,
To wrap all extreme parts of me in one.
I guess I will heal, the depression and over thinking a few people I loved in the past gifted me are ready to rest in the near future.
I guess I'm coming to terms with things that are normal,
To still love people who aren't around,
To miss memories we had with people and feel guilt,
To feel it is acceptable to move on from guilt,
To accept demise and be okay with grieving.
It will all come to an end
And then we'll have another round
And another end
And another round.
I'll writing heartbreaking stories,
I'll cry with them and I'll heal,
I'll break again.
As long as I learn to depend on myself,
In weakness and strongness,
I'll be okay.
©winter_dreams -
winter_dreams
51w
Read More
I think while people were hoarding sanitizers, I hoarded feelings. I need new shelves to keep them :)
The Leftover Leaflet
I always thought
People knew something I don't
They have something, all of them
And I don't. Something they are hiding,
Living, acting and I always felt like an outsider.
I always go back to the time I felt a great feeling everytime I close my eyes
and I never know whom to associate it to.
And whom to blame for not feeling the same again.
Now all I see is hollow
All i feel is hollow.
Naiveness and trust are smart people
And I guess that's why they never came to me again
Maybe that is the punishment of not being patient
I don't get to feel truly again.
I guess snippets of guilt and hurt will always decorate happiness
And maybe someday, someone will appreciate that art.
I think comfort and content are multiple people
And not one
And everytime we will be served a different version
And if we are lucky enough, we get to keep one with us in it.
And if we are unlucky enough, we get to keep a piece with a haunting beautiful face in it.
Maybe that's what people don't tell me.
Maybe that's what they are hiding.
©winter_dreams -
winter_dreams
51w
Read More
(P. S : This is clean. No bad words)
Also, it is kinda stupid. Like really stupid. But, it kinda expresses what I want perfectly.The Half Burnt Pages
The title emerges from my paranoia.
I guess I really don't like telling people I feel.
So if I wrote somewhere, sometime how I feel,
I'll burn it down, but not really,
Because I want someone to know.
I want someone to feel that I feel too.
I carry an empty bucket inside,
In a tiny hut near my heart.
When heart pumps emotions
I fill the bucket to brim and forget.
Maybe it makes me strong but
The windows know I'm weak.
Sometimes, heart pumps confusion
And the hut closes it's door,
Ears open their windows then
And I hear emotions, black emotions.
I guess the bucket gets thirsty.
The hut is greedy, the words are coward.
Silence is like ego, it grows on hurt,
destroys it and make the blood more poisonous.
I guess someday,
When the bucket knocks the door of the heart
And pours black, confusion accepts the clarity
The darkness provides and heart accepts blood,
Blood, that is not it's own.
I guess mind cares and I know
Care and hurt share a special bond.
When the bonds break, it bleeds
And only silence knows the colour.
It wins, because I don't tell.
Maybe that's why ego smiles.
©winter_dreams -
winter_dreams
53w
I'd like to drown in tragedies,
If you agree to do the same.
I'd like to know how you made it through,
Whisper it in the air and call my name.
©winter_dreams -
winter_dreams
54w
Read More
All this time, I thought my life was a tragedy,
But now I realize it is a comedy
A comedy with nightmares
Nightmares that force me to write words
Words that have meaning but no sense
Sense that has decided to stay hidden inside
Inside in mind, and now it's time
Time for the demons to rise.
The first two lines above are from the iconic movie "Joker". Sorry for ruining it. Hehe."Do I ever come in your dreams?"
"Yes and when you do, they become nightmares." Came a growl.
"Do you nurse them? Do you gulp them down because you have to?"
Silence.
"Did you let go? If you did, I think you did, why can't I?"
Ragged breaths. Mingled.
"Do you think you were an angel? One that got angry and left? Or were you the devil that decided to extend your stay?"
Sighs.
"I don't know. Why would I know? Why are you asking me? I went away right? Go talk to someone else."
" I don't think I can. That's why I'm brought here. I don't know how to talk anymore. I don't think I'll know now."
Retreating foot steps.
"Will you come back. When it's not dark. Will you show your face and smile? Will you miss it?"
Heavy silence. "Maybe, I don't know."
I heard the footsteps and heart beats that sounded awfully like hope and I knew it was a nightmare. Hope.
Untill you don't know how to separate it from yourself and see it fly away and only see it smiling at you seldom.
You can't cage it. There is only so much blood you have and so much the threads can absorb.
So,
Let go.
Why don't you?
Learn
Why can't you?
Be alone
Why don't you?
Don't fire away words
Why can't you?
Stay will yourself
Won't you?
©winter_dreams -
winter_dreams
55w
Read More
Hola!! Stay at home people. Stay safe. I hope this quarantine, you learn to love, love yourself ❤️
Regrets
"Regrets", I asked, "How are you supposed to not have them?"
"How are you supposed to not see what is in front of you?
How are you supposed to not accept defeat?
How are you supposed to not know you are broken and still breaking?
How are you supposed to not realize you don't know how to hold threads without feeling crimson?
How are you supposed to hold onto crystals when you don't even believe you are one?
How are you supposed to explain when you don't know how to feel?
How are you supposed to be silent when the noise in inside?
How are you supposed to be coffee when you are carrot in hot water?
How are you supposed to not feel insecure?
How are you supposed to build a wall when the bricks have given up?
How are you supposed to be yourself when the mirror refuse to reflect you?
How are you supposed to not have regrets?"
©winter_dreams
-
shizaine
20w
- Nietzsche
-
loner
49w
Read Morehe walks down the empty street
with a small ukulele on his back
eyes down on the concrete
watching his own feet
drag him forward.
you'd think, poor boy,
his love left him at the best,
what else can hurt a boy so young
and he probably sings songs
in her memory at nights
sitting on his window sill,
smoking some cigarettes,
burning his lungs like his heart.
the boy stumbles and a diary falls
out of his jacket and now you'd think,
oh, he must even write poetry,
his lover the muse.
he bends down to pick up the diary,
and something shiny and pointy
pokes out of his denims.
looking at this you'd think,
my poor little boy
on his way to kill himself,
I must stop him
and so rush forward
down the stairs, out the front door,
with a Bible in your hand.
stop my dear little boy,
worry not for God loves us all,
throw away that knife and here,
take this.
you don't know what hit you,
but something did
and the last you remember
is a crucifix in his right hand
and the knife in the left,
slashing across your throat.
the open bible pages
now dripping red.
@lamentationsintentions
-
shaiz_fs
48w
Read MoreI was going to the gym.
I saw an accident on the way.
I thought of calling the ambulance
and helping the victims to
get out of the vehicle.
but I didn't because I was
getting late to the gym.
I will miss my biceps work-
out which I don't want.
"Atleast I am kind hearted,
I feel sorry for the victims."
I was on my way to college.
I saw a bunch of boys teasing
a girl. I thought of going
and confronting them.
but I didn't because she isn't
my sister and I am not bahubali.
"Atleast I am kind hearted,
I feel sorry for the girl."
I was standing at a pizza hut
an armless beggar came
begging near me. I thought
of helping the poor soul.
but I didn't because the
money in my wallet was
only sufficient to my pizza.
"Atleast I am kind hearted,
I feel sorry for the poor."
I was having a walk in the park
I saw two people fighting
over religion. I thought to
interfere and solve their dispute.
but I didn't because they were
not my friends and it was none
of my business to stop them.
"Atleast I am kind hearted,
I feel sorry for their stupidity."
I was in my college canteen.
I saw couple of bad boys
bullying a guy for his ugly
and disfigured face. I
thought of going to his rescue.
but I didn't because they
were powerful and I didn't
wanted to mess with them.
"Atleast I am kind hearted,
I feel sorry for the guy."
shaiz_fs
There are many more circumstances where we act just as mere spectators. Feeling bad in heart doesn't justify that you are a good human being. You should never hesitate to help someone in trouble. You should never fear to confront someone powerful than you. Only then you will be known as a good human being.
Pic credits to the rightful owner
Corrections and suggestions are welcome.
may be my last post this ramadan
#dadiesprincess
#mirakee #writersnetwork #ceesreposts #julietscorner #yaminiread #tanzread.
-
Endings used to scare me but I realised some endings make a path for you to reach the ultimate destination -Peace.Be it in this life or not.
-
branthan
48w
Read MoreDo you know why I love stars?
They represent something extraordinary.
It is like staring right into the past life of something that happened long before our existence. It questions our understanding of time, this is nothing but a universe that existed in different parts of the time. Some a few minutes before, some few hours, some thousands, some billions and some may not even exist at this moment. In the grand stage of things, our now is nothing but a collage of a past that no longer exists. We are so damn foolish, thinking we need words to tell what we feel when the universe does a better job with this darkness and flickering lights.
BG:
It is one of the most iconic photographs taken by the Hubble space telescope.
These towering tendrils of cosmic dust and gas sit at the heart of M16, or the Eagle Nebula. The aptly named Pillars of Creation, featured in this stunning Hubble image, are part of an active star-forming region within the nebula and hide newborn stars in their wispy columns.
source: NASA.
-
vvannabe
50w
Read MoreI had eternal power and I scored. I don't anymore. They think me weak and the Wild ignores.
Sisyphus
I saw a little ant struggling today. Legs flailing, it actually survived the initial onslaught wrecked upon those straddlers by a wave of water. Does that entitle it to a rescue? Or was there something else? I used to play around the drains, or what those small runnels coursing a path along the house walls were called. A small scrawny kid, with a contorted stick grasped from the clutches of a neem tree, and a matchstick to capture that strength of fire, to drink deep from that chalice of power. I cannot even recall why I did it, maybe cause one of them bit me, maybe cause I channeled some rage, some helplessness. I took that piece of wood, I stabbed those little creatures. Convinced that it was not fatal enough, I'd torch the crippled, struggling form. Some innocent kid eh. I think that wasn't the only instance where I poured fire on those tired beasts. I once imprisoned a limping wasp and sacrificed it on the effigy of Dussehra. I'd convince myself as just, punishing some ugly insect, for it's tenacity, for a threat that terrifies. So much for some moral science.
I contemplated about helping that ant, maybe even did. Overcoming some guilt? Cowering behind that thin veil of some good deeds? Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn't. I realised half of this stuff, at least in my conscious, after I started writing it down. But I felt no elation, no loss of grief or a sense of atonement. Like some mundane necessity, I delivered it unto a dry wall. To spend the rest of it's short, confused life away from the tide that follows a shower. I still think children are innocent. Innocent in a way where they let loose their demons, conspicuous and ready for the judgement from others. The innocence of someone mired in the dark mud of ignorance or a simple lack of knowledge. The innocence sparkling in that welled up tear, when they are allowed to empathize. The innocence, trapped in that parched throat, like a lump, followed by a whimper, and a faint smile. A smile to hide some realisation, some crime.
#writersnetwork #mirakee
I'm looking for some suggestions. A song, a melody or a tune. I'd be thankful..
©vvannabe
-
Under Destruction
Even with a trifled heart, a bloodied wrist
and ten incessant vodka shots later, you
still feel the same. Wrecked, rotten, dead.
Despite breathing in smoke rings on a
wet May night, you only choke on a swig
of plastic "it's okay"s that you've been
puking, on loop, since yesteryear. Your
tobacco stained middle finger does a
tiny tremor as you recall the shrieks of
hollow laughter that filled the room the
last time you called for your friends, only
to get your aching heart stabbed one last
time.
The darkest of alleys show you polar
lights as you take a trip down the rabbit
hole, every single time a wave of trust
washes up your door with two promising
brown eyes, a hooked nose and chapped
lips. Should you take a chance? Should
you give them one? Flashes of severed
limbs, broken bones and a scarred soul
grace your blurred vision. You no longer
dare to turn the doorknob and rather
collapse in a heap of regrets. For a past,
that you can't undo or overlook, only
leaves you with skyrocketing bouts of
paranoia.
Dawn somersaults on the edge of your
eyelids and a new day arrives, to teach
you sanity, while tightrope-walking on a
trippy path of stinking solitude. You can't
stumble, you can't fall, unless you want
a hushed funeral with few black dresses
and unknown faces hovering over the
corpse of a life that never lived.
©Merusri Mukherjee -
alto_spade
49w
Read MoreAdrenaline rushed into
my blood, the moment
of downright numbness
sneered at the lid toppling
over my suppressed rage.
Bitter coldness ran on my
flesh, I clenched my fist, my
bones craved for a thrust
of pain and I needed to know
if there was any life left under
the dead man's skin I wore.
I punched, swung my fist at
concrete that stood helplessly
in the dark. Fresh blood tipped
over my bruised knuckles, I
rammed my fist into shivering
waters and in the midst of the
tussle in my head a stinging
sensation clasped my fingers.
As I opened my fist, a sharp
snap broke the silence and I
chuckled at how lifeless it
sounded. I had nothing to give
up on, the walls played victim
and my bones seldom felt the
need to stop.
©alto_spade
19/7/2019Beside oneself
-Even the loudest cracks die a silent death-
©alto_spade -
despair
49w
Read MoreYou continue to break me like your thoughts and leak my pieces everywhere you go across L.A. Your boots have seen a petal mourning for me at every cementry you've ever been to. You see a ghost of me, and although it crushes my bones, I try to smile through my crooked teeth and bloody gums while my breath remains hitched.
(I'm the most toxic thing you've ever come across. There's poison in my veins and dust on my lips. You turn around and storm away refusing to kiss the ash settled on my cheeks. Tears wash them away but it's already too late.)
You think it'd be damn good to not hear from me again, but lean in closer and you'll hear how badly I've been hoping for you to save a piece of me for your own self.
(My heart won't stop throbbing and it's 2 a.m. as my mind is hung on the song you thought would tear me apart. I wish it didn't. I wish it didn't. I wish you didn't. But my heart's just adamant like me. You made me believe in zodiac signs and now, I hate that I do.)
My therapist wants to unlayer me but I can't tell her that she has to study you to understand what pain I'm going through. I'm 1 hour and 10 minutes late here and I call you thrice but you reject my call and abandon me like the extra cauliflower in your soup and I don't know what to do, so I string a lame excuse together and miss my third appointment in less than a week.
(I wish you'd charged your phone last night before dozing off while talking to your friend about the assignment that went wrong. You always had your priorities straight and I wish I could learn that from you but my mom knows I'm a bad student, have always been.)
2 years ago you asked me if people frown in their dreams and my answer was no. Fast forward to two years, maybe on a windy Friday morning I'd tell you how your nightmares make me feel drunk on broken love but you just don't seem to care and hell, I'm too tired to fix any of what's left in me.
(Running my fingers over the cosy coffee mug, I peek into my empty soul. I pour over coffee to fill the voids in my body but I end up burning my fingers and staining my shirt. You froze my heart with unmeasurable hatred and fuck, one cup of coffee cannot melt it down so easily.)
-18.07.2019Thou art to me a delicious torment
- Ralph Waldo Emerson -
john_solomon
50w
Read More#PoetryWednesday
#cees_wow_chall
#oddquain
Syllable count 1‐3‐5-7-1
Word used "nebula".The
atoms of
verse are all birthed in
the nebula's, poetry's
womb
©john_solomon
