Give your voice to the voiceless and you will be an echo of infinite souls. You will live through everyone you saved.
Читать полностью…It is easier to fall asleep on the edge of a lake somewhere around hawassa than my own bed,
It is easier to laugh at a stranger's joke scripted from miles away than to find comfort among 'friends'
It is easier to read and write without the hammer of responsibility than to mind these words,
It is easier to bury yourself in an unknown graveyard than to be reminded of your legacy or your little marks.
Would you hand a brick to a woman building a world with her bare hands, trap the lights inside her eyes to project on the night sky,
Would you help the fabric of heaven to be draped on earth, allow the stars atop to convince her into waving goodbye,
Would you give her the tools to build a boat out on the turquoise sea, push the waves out of her trail in a heartbeat,
Would you see her thunder like hoizer beat, find the music of her flaw and feat.
I often find myself drenched with sadness. I am afraid I will drip on someone that doesn't deserve it and I will kill them. I am stronger than every person that I ever knew. I am so strong it actually starts to hurt sometimes. I am actually made of steel that I would rather die before I let anyone break me.
Читать полностью…We were entangled by something more than fate. It was a string on your corner of the world that pulled you to me. And for a long time, I loathed what connected us, like it was a curse that violently triggers what could be until I let it stay. I learned to embrace pieces that were yours.
We were torn from one cloth and it was tearing me apart to admit you and I could be the same, that a part of you revives in me when I try to murder it. It was the lifeline that saved me, that saved you when we were away from each other. I think you survive despite duality for everything else compared to living another day is less.
I don't care for burned pages that I set in flames in hot tears and bustling winds of heavy breaths,
I don't care for lost paths and broken bridges that are covered with dead end roads,
I don't care for damaged thoughts and prideful opinions that mask sanity,
I don't care for your wants and needs that aren't mine to fulfill and satisfy.
~Some of them just don't get it. There is no growth for some.
He looked solemn standing in the moonlight on the edges of two worlds but so close to theirs. He watches them laugh, cry, love, live but when they finally come to him, they seem to look at him like he took them away to misery. The broken gaze they cast him as they fight tears back his way tugs at his heart. If it was what was supposed to happen why does it kill them inside to follow him down their eternity.
"Who are you? Why am I here? I want to go back."
He had heard this too many times. As though, it was his choice. This was all he had ever known. 'If his purpose was this despised, was it really worth it?' He often hated parting them from the life they seem to hate from the surface yet treasure.
"You can't. This is your home now."
And then he would see the hatred boiling in their veins.They would turn their face away out of fear but he could taste their murderous words of their minds like sour drink. 'What was it they had that I can't give?'
At first, it tasted like sun-beams with fresh smell and inviting ripes, ready to be devoured by angel-like souls who fed upon anything new, anything worth the race of their innocent little curious hearts. They bestowed knowledge, wisdom, the gift to individualistic pursuit, and the will to defy. It would lure in them with speculations and mysteries, disguising their true intentions.
At last, it tasted like slaughter in their mouths, mingled with tragic sight that broke their angel wings. It would go rotten in their stomachs, slice their insides and gut their flesh, break their bones, making them mortal feeble dust. It would bestow death, sin, destruction, self-loathing. It would make them whine in madness as they slowly wither each day and night. It won't hide like before, instead it would take them for sinister pleasure called revenge.
It becomes a virtue to hide, to keep it a secret when the trusted person speaks for attention and when the doors close and you can't see them anymore, they become a different kind of person and you'd know your name being mentioned in malicious light.
Читать полностью…There are some people that only know kindness and it is beautiful that they would just do it for anyone, no questions asked. You meet them at random places and they have the power to restore the humanity you lost, to put a smile on your frowning face and you find them everywhere. You just have to look.
:)
The true loneliness that cripples when you're among a sea of people is the fact that you haven't found your like minded people.
Читать полностью…Truth remains apparent to the forgotten and a mystery or better yet a dilemma to the well known.
~Why?
And if she takes her time to draw your face in canvases, envisions the things you would say to her while staring into her soul like the sailor song would if it had eyes, don't take her for granted,
And if she takes her sweet time to read you her favourite line in a book, thinking you would know her more while she gently guides you to her inner world, don't take her for granted.
~now you know your deadly sin?
I remained unsettled, bruised over the words that didn't leave my mouth and bruised over ones that did without intent,
I remained forgotten, forgotten by the love that never knew me and that one I told about my somber night,
I remained silent, silent to be heard in the middle of chaos and silent to be completely free of words,
I remained plain, plain enough not to be threatening the world and plain enough to be left alone.
-At what cost?
If pain is not power, how come I am drunk on it? It feels like power because it gives me a reason to change my ways.
-I don't think I'll ever lose my power
"Always the bridesmaid never the bride"
Standing on the edge, looking at happy souls dancing with church bells, she felt the calmness long after drought settled in between her soul.
Dreaming she was among white clothes and vows, she felt the rage lit the path long after ashes clung to her veil.
Black cat for a black soul as fitting as the tale of witches in forests,
They say the omen of death hovers above her as she lays among beasts,
Midnight scars and evening cuts as fitting as the lore of a woman in the shadows,
They say the unseen mind tortures itself every single time the night commences.
I think I have given her my eyes, the doors to new worlds resides in her. I can't hold space for both of us and it created such horror for a spectator but oh what a relief it was to me. To be barren like a fallen leaf but still be met with rich grounds. I feel no need to gaze out into the outside and ponder at what a sight it was to see through a blurred vision. I don't want to figure how to behave in between catastrophes.
~I just don't want to anymore
I would like y'all to feel free to discuss anything about literature. I would enjoy the convos. Feel free to start a text with a simple hi haha. Don't be shy :). We all love poetry and that makes us similar in a way. I want this discussion group to be a place of healing and happiness
xoxo