That particular one place that you feel the safest, also keeps terrorizing the most.
Do me a favour sweet little hon,
That bridge ?
That disconnected your world,
and deceived your happiness
That put you in the water,
and pushed you till the swamp
That did nothing ,
but only several harms
To dream is a feel,
But some Unfinished, Unhappened
Dreams put us down
Pats us low ,
Breaks our crown
In the course of time we still never
We just stop believing in them.
(Have you felt like it too? )
(Image Courtesy : My beautiful friend, Manisha.)
I intimidate people with my silence,
Infuriate them with my insecurities
Swear them off my care,
Nauseate them with my fears .
I fold and crush like a tissue ,
But yearn to be refined without any excuse.
I grow under layers of grimace ,
But hold on to memories for days
I crib, I cry .
I hurt, I try .
I approve some punches to make things right.
I fail , I’m extreme .
I choke, I scream.
I hate sitting on a floor so dry,
But I swear, I’d be worth a try.
To hold my mess together ,
Cause it’s better late than never.
Thank you for reading 🙂 @quiescentlistener
A seventy year old me , would pain in not putting in effort for the things I want
Would try to peep in their hearts than their social media accounts
Would love to sleep in a dark night wrapped along a blanket of stars
Would still wait for a love letter
Would not be as fragile to worthless situations
Would not be scared to be lonely.
A seventy year old me would be the outcome of managing persistent worse situations, on bearing utter patience and moderation. If that it’s going to be.
Believe me, I can’t wait to grow old.
A while in a not so far away place was the struggle of a human ( as per how you relate ) living up among the absurdities of situations, winding in repulsive grimace, hiding under the layers of how many times he has been given up by every inch of everyone who could possibly would have been everything to offer, striving between those mediocre mornings to serene nights and with feelings so ineffable questioning how possibly everything turned upside down. You know what’s their biggest loss?
Thinking that it was all their fault
If you are making the same mistake,
It’s always as simple as spreading the jam over your bread
As passing down a joke to your mate
As cursing your fate
As running behind a kite
And losing it’s sight.
As simple as trembling with immense fear and insecurities and writing or well maybe, reading this cause it’s never too late.
We are all in this because we love to write and we love to throw emotions verbally. Very cautiously we are also aware about the rapidness of evolving technology.
I can’t explain if it was a random thought that striked my mind or a reality taking time to digest.
How many of us are Writing or Just ‘Type’ Writing.
I think I’m doing bit of both.
Do share your views. 🙂
I’ve mastered darkness like a cozy evening,
While the night and dawn conflate.
Of what keeps on deceiving ,
Weaving blossoms and storms of the world’s weight.
I’ve mastered darkness like a cozy evening my friend,
What do you think I’m afraid of ?