“what was the most pain you have ever felt”
healing from someone, i once thought i would heal with
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يحتاج الإنسان إلى إنسان بسيط مثله، طبيعي إلى أقرب درجة، عادي لا يملك قلبا ثانيًا ولا يدا ثالثة، خفيف الروح، خفيف الظل ثقيل الحضور، ثقيل الوجود، يعرف متى يلين وكيف يلين يخفض جناحه حين تنقطع الأيادي، يطيل النظر حين يغض الآخرون أطرافهم، ويبوح حين يسكت الجميع.
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is it easy to love and be loved?
patience, persistence, pain never will outweigh the blossoming feeling of butterflies in the garden of your heart and the healing it does to your soul.
love, as it is, requires the greatest seen effort as well as those that are too menial to be noticed.
to yearn for the warmth of contact, and embrace to never let go
to catch oneself longing for the presence, and endure the pain of waiting
to ponder what the world offers, and to give a piece of the earth
to care and nourish the wellbeing, and to wish well on the wanders
to continue what is good and kind, and to push through the madness of emotions.
to live life as your own, and to live life being theirs
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I would rather wonder what could have been than experience what would have been.
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Shades of Grey
I tried to paint a picture
Of the future we could have had
But the canvas remained as empty
As the starless sky
The colors I once knew
Now blend in shades of grey
As memories of us
Die slowly and decay
posting this from the deepest pit of hell (buried beneath deadlines)
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated💙
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and we could end it like this, I know there's no good way to say goodbye to you
by laurenmaerie, no painless goodbye
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What I’ve been told vs What I’m experiencing.
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and what of the little orange tufted sunbird?
was it not she who protested most vehemently
when you clipped her wings and bound her feet?
still you clamp shut her beak
as if she had nothing to speak
and tear her children far from her reach
her husband's head bobs in the stream
as her mother's bones rot in the street
yet with a torn throat she will scream
"from the river to the sea,
palestine will be free."
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you said you were afraid to lose me and then you faced your fears and left.
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I love odd concepts 🪷
- curator 🗝️
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i want you to open your arms so i can run from them
i want you to leave a voicemail i can delete
come home with me and lock me out
come home with me so i can leave
i watch it at the window
leaving perfect impressions
spreading the better word
by cutting the fat out
its lying in the snow
covering its mouth
surrounded by salt
and completely frozen
and i want you to leave
i want to slam the door in your face
and hope you read between the lines
while i think up new lies
that are searchlight white
that are walking a very reasonable pace
(come on out
we've got you surrounded)
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He promised a forever, for a forever is a roleplay.
Poetricismic
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Stéphane Mallarmé (18 March 1842), pen name of Étienne Mallarmé, was a French poet and critic.
“I have made a long enough descent into the void to speak with certainty. There is nothing but beauty -- and beauty has only one perfect expression, Poetry. All the rest is a lie.”
Stephane Mallarme
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