No me dejen morir
como una mariposa
atravesada por un alfiler
deseo ver una vez más
como la ardiente noche
lucha contra la obsesiva realidad
y volver a asistir al misterio
de los días que se abren
quiero deletrear cada nuevo libro
escrito por la tierra
en cantos pagaré la gracia concedida.
You belong to yourself.
you are whole as an individual.
no matter how many times you curse the reflection of the mirror, no matter how many times you fight with the restless memories of you feeling not happy with your visuals, you will forever remain beautiful, with the rise of the moon and the fall of the night every day.
you are made up with the small pieces of glittery stardust, spun intrically with silver blue strings.
your soul is enough to create innumerable songs for the radio which can keep any forlorn traveller company with a shy smile on a summer afternoon.
your presence of scintillating aurora is enough to spread lavender smell which lingers throughout the universe.
you are that limited edition of homemade rainbow many aspire, but cannot own.
your kaleidoscopic image is enough to radiate spectrums of serendipity.
you are pleasing like the 1st morning coffee, you are peaceful like the sparkling waterfall, you are priceless like the old vintage books, you are romantic like the good night kisses, you are soulful like the softest wind and shimmering waves,
you are fierce like the turbulent sea,
you are soothing like the sweetest honey.
you are not only beautiful in your dreams , but also in the reality of daylight.
1. you belong to yourself. # singhmeastoryprompts @singhmeastory
2. summer afternoon. #email@example.com
3. shimmering waves. #cappuccinoprompts@cappuccinocolcacao
4. made of stardust. #eunoiapromptsaug20challenge@eunoiaprompts
5. lavender. #lemondaisyprompts@lemondaisypoetry
6. honey. #firstname.lastname@example.org
#instagram#instawriting#thoughtsofheart#writersuniverse #writingislove#writingideas #writingbyme#ilovetowrite#womenwhowrite #writerscommunity#writersofintagram#readwriteunite#poetry#poem#poetryporn#poemsindia#igpoetry#poetrycommunity#communityofpoets#poemsociety#poetrycorner#poemsofinstagram#poetrywriting#globalpoetcult#updivine
a person looks deep into my eyes
she tells me of knowing all my dirty secrets
she claims to know of all the lies
as soon as i deny she tells me one
this person looks deep into my eyes, reminding of my feared thoughts
of my barely making it or those terrible failures
she makes me remember my defeat of all sorts
of the times where i stood and fell
this person looks deep into my eyes, reminding me of my journey
of the horror that i call my life
she speaks of the days when it was all red as inferno
and the nights as blue as the marks under my skin
this person looks deep into my eyes, tells me of the times i didn't fail
and the celebrations to console
she describes the dreams long forgotten
of the hopes that held me together
this person looks deep into my eyes, whispers the chants of desires
to achieve what i once thought i deserved
she nods to agree of the worldly glitters
of the chase towards the matter
this person looks deep into my eyes, knowing me more than i ever could
holding my soul through that cold gaze
she pushes to have faith in myself again
and win whatever i wanted in my life
this person looks deep into my eyes, saying she believes in me
and there i see a smile on her face
of the sorts that gives you relief
an evil grin that makes me realise
art reposted via: @lunarlilt
//i succumbed to the numb, only to find myself feeling again.//
1. my life keeps moving in a circle. like the ceiling fan, i stare at it and hope for its blades to glide through me. i feel dizzy from it. or like the record they'll play on my funeral, with songs that weren't the best. but they could never find out what music i listen to.
2. i'm hollow as a tree. yet my body, too heavy to carry, my head, too heavy to lift and heart, too heavy to love. nihility pulls me down to the ground and i can't move.
3. there's nothing left of me, you took peices of me untill i was just a void. but i feel too full, on the verge of throwing up.
4. the two thousand and eighty nine voices in my head, once used to be too loud have now grown quiet. i am all of them; so many. yet, i am no one.
6. although, they wake up some quiet nights. the voices that used to sing of symphonies, now fight with each other. arguing over who will take over my body. i don't get a choice - not even to exist.
7. i mess up my counting, sometimes; some alphabets, misplaced. maybe i'm too hungry for the words that remind me of myself and i swallow them whole in remembrance, and hope that i'll be divergent, ultimately.
8. punctured tyres, all four, flat. no depth. that's how my words feel every day, and so, my mind. so i stopped letting out words. i puke blood, instead. it matches the redness of my eyes, from drying out and waiting to cry.
9. the sun comes out at night; the world, i thought, upside-down. like the distorted life i've made for myself. eventually, my heedless thought, untrue. i fathom the world to be round, roughly a circle, a loop, just like this piece.
//i remember the salty cries burning through my skin.//
sidney sparks, lacuna
in 2 minutes
[watch till end]
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Bloomed like a black flower. soon will die have no fear new bud will sprout
4 weeks ago
Accompany me in the dark