liars-diary

[liars-diary]

Gift for a friend

It’s fascinating what a few lines of text can do.

A book can be written.

Or an idea can be shared.

Just like a community can rise.

A friendship gained, or a friendship ruined.

A romance started.

Or a paper with major significance. One declaring peace, while another separating a pair forever.

There’s many things you can do with your words.

You can start a dispute.

Or motivate the masses.

You can be rich! Or destroy the rich.

You can start an uprising! Or shut it down.

And yet. People forget the most common use of text. The one you see the most.

Or not enough of.

One meant to make you smile, one meant to help.

It’s everywhere, hidden among the hate.

That’s why it means a lot when someone uses their words for simple pleasures.

Like you, thank you.

#writeblr #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writing #old writing #gifts #gift #gift writing

[liars-diary]

I write things.

I lie.

And if you recognize my writing? No, no you don’t.

[liars-diary]

Gifts

Have you ever opened a gift and you hated it? But… everyone was looking at you and expected you to love it?

The next gift is the exact same but in green. The next is in pink, the next in red, and next in yellow and another one in red.

They are all the same. You hate them equally.

But you’re supposed to love every single one. You’re supposed to be happy, show a smile, be grateful… but you hate them all.

It doesn’t matter that they tried. They tried yes, but they tried for themselves.

Not for me.

It was never about me.

The gift was for me, but it wasn’t. It was just given to me for them to feel good.

It never made me happy.

It never made me glad.

I had nothing.

I gained so many things, but I didn’t gain anything.

All I have is just more junk but I can’t be angry.

I have to be glad after all, I just received a present.

#tw vent #vent #vent post #personal vent #vent blog #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writers and poets #writblr #sad thoughts #gifts #recent works

[liars-diary]

Real-fake

There’s a man that never was and never will.

A man of broken will, a man of teeth and bone, of blood and skin.

A man who’s good deeds were never heard. A man who’s crimes were never accounted for.

The one that never existed, the one that never lived.

Never once did he smile, never once shed a tear.

His hand was never held, his gaze was never felt.

A word never uttered, a lesson never learned.

A place never occupied, or an empty place to be left behind.

Not a shard of glass, nor a rusty door.

There was never a mother to mourn the man, a friend or father to hold his dying hand. A child to mourn a father, a partner to mourn their lover.

As there was no one left alive to know the man that never was.

He never lived, he never loved.

And therefore, couldn’t be loved.

There was never a man to be spoken of.

#writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #old writing #i wrote this a while ago #my best work