If I'm the grief
You'd be my long lost sadness, buried inside my ashes of anger.
If I'm the scar, you'd be the dripping blood,
Your clotted barrier, shielding me unwrapped.
If I'm voiceless, you'd be my pen, paper and words.
And if I'm "love"
You'd be the unrequited before it, the hopeless, before my romance.
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What is defeat?
If not being the same kind of person you used to hate, and never wanted to be?
What is defeat?
If not being hated and looked down upon, by yourself?
What is deafeat?
If not being surrounded by the wrong people your entire life, thinking what is possibly wrong about you?
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Truth hurts---
So does healing.
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Wondering, how the bohemian in me at times,
Want an elegance before poetry,
And most of the times,
These words keep scorching out from hell.
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I hope you know,
How many people loved you so silently,
Even you didn't notice, how their breathe was
Falling upon you, like heaven's grace,
Like every blessing.
And if knew, I certainly hope
You wouldn't want to stop living this young.
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One such controversial yet selfish lookout of mine about life is, if it reaches its fullest potential or completion, through the involvement of others. Is it going to be incomplete, if we refuse to live for others? Is it going to be devoid of such potential, if we live for and validate ourselves, taking up things to understand and make ourselves joyful in a neutrally harmless manner, opposing the nature's law of, nourishing the upcoming. I claim my life revolvs around me, and me only. It is prooved so, I was born alone, and I'll die such. My life, will not end with the death of near ones, the ticking of my life will end with my death, my life is mine only, and it will not go in vain if i fail to be involved with others as much as I'm involved with myself I believe.
Losing lovable people who were worth living for, might bring misery, but life goes on.
Life goes on, certain people kill themselves if their loved ones die. Might be because, the idea of 'life goes on' without their loved ones, is the one that burns and stings inside the most. Its not only the absence of their loved ones that hurt, but the horrifying idea of their life "just going on" without their person. It's because their life, a keen parasite will choose to end with them. Neither before, nor after.
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•Isn't it kinda concerning,
how people are unobothered about the things they don't know, and they're also unbothered for their unbotherence of such lack of interest and knowledge in specifically nowhere, atleast if not everywhere in shallow manner.
•Isn't it kinda concerning ,
how we define beauty in terms of certain standards, and it doesn't take us any seconds to label anybody, based on "doe eyes, fair tone", whereas we don't know where does real beauty lie? Does it exist only in mere taglines, or in the strength of it?
In the toils of everyday, through the dusted highways and polluted smogs that burns our eye, somebody still glows in her light tainted lip balm or undone hair.
•Isn't it kinda concerning,
Declaring ourselves as one of the finest animals, prooving our worth, unlike a bug or a mere animal who is not aware of its position,
we, as greatest of all, are entirely aware of our existence, how big, yet how small we are, How we are placed in time, we know it all.
but when it comes to our own means, it doesn't take us much to drag ourselves down to the creatures we claim, to be above than, yes, such mere bugs or animals.
It's such a tragic concern, to be failed as humans, even after our eight billion years of climbing up a ladder, only to bring us down.
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Wondering....
Clarice Lispecto
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The more you grow up the more you understand, you can't be straightforward everywhere, you don't have to sugercoat things, but you need to tell truth in a way it hurts less. Logic isn't everything and some stages make us emotional. It's not people's fault that they're stupid or doesn't agree with your logic. They've lived a life very different than yours, their pattern of right or wrong with yours will match rarely or maybe later. The more you grow up, the more you ask for the things that you never loved to see in people.
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Real
Yes.
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People aren't rude,
We just grow up without telling ourselves.
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《■》Have you ever felt the present to be so hellish and empty, that you start reminiscing the past, as if it was the only time you've been happy, only heaven you used to live in.
It would be such a pity to think, how we search through the scatterred pieces of our childhood or the blurred out teenage, to live the time once again, when we used to be truly happy, when there were large room for dreams?《■》
Picture: pinterest
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● The fact is, we often fail from the aspect of our greatest humanistic ability to build, communicate, and comprehend through the languages we build, only when a single line of a poetry or a simple muse, explain and understand us in such a perfectly satisfying way, that we couldn't ever do in all these years.●
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Out of all people, I fell in love with you,
isn't that divine, sweetheart?💫
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