i wonder if he still thinks about me.last night when my mom asked me to call her as soon as i wake up,i thought of him.how we used to wake each other up every day during our exam days and spend the rest of the time texting about how we have to finish a particular portion that day.did he knew then,a new chapter between us had begun?or was it when he held my hand a little too tight while crossing the streets of an abandoned night.i never found out.never wanted to.
"why can't you love me?"he asked softly as the sun's westward crawled between us "can't you see i'm all that you are asking for in him." .
i didn't knew then to answer him.
yes,it is true,he was everything and much more.does he ever realise how much it hurts me to deny him of the love he deserved? i dared not to ask.
at night like these,i find myself questioning why do we always hurts the ones we love,and love the ones who hurts us?
4 days ago
This world did not destroy me. my demons did not destroy me. i may be a little ragged around the edges and a little weary in my soul, but i am here and i still have hope. and today, that is enough. #healing#broken#hope • • •
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3 days ago
I’m giving away two prints. one for you and a friend
all you have to do is...
2. like this post
3. tag a friend in a comment below
the winner will be selected randomly and contacted after 48 hours so ensure you are following. please note that the print is unframed.
2 days ago
A laugh and a smile can hide the deepest of wounds. try to see - really see - the people in your life. don’t be fooled by that smile or that laugh. take the time to see what’s really going on, the feelings behind the mask, the truth of their heart. then love them. help if you can. ask what they need. too many of us are walking through this world with a beautiful facade and a broken spirit. #mask#brokenheart#seethrough
i would love for you to follow me @susanneblumer. i share my ❤️ with you daily.
An excerpt from my journal yesterday morning. as a writer, i always feel so guilty if i haven't created anything in a while. i feel like i'm failing as an artist. but yesterday i got thinking about how writers block might not necessarily mean stunted growth. it might be an opportunity to be creative in other ways. so i started with little ones. reading a new book and scribbling notes in coloured pencils. listening to new music while i cleaned the kitchen. thinking of a recipe to use up the basil (somehow it ended up in the above photo 😅). it was a simple day and these are simple examples but today i woke up and made myself the same promise: that i will be an artist even if my pen never touches the page. after all, living is the most creative thing we will ever do 🎨
On the days where crying
cannot help me;
my heart overflows,
and i will spill not tears —
on the days | a.p. ✍🏻
Just when i found the perfect place to die,
i heard a voice - 'live a little more'
just when i rowed to the centre of the lake
i heard a voice - 'jump, swim to the shore'
just when i thought i had reached the cliff
i heard a voice - 'fall down the slope'
just when i learned to swing on the trees
i heard a voice - 'get down, go home'
Your eyes are as deep as ocean,
i wana swim in those eyes,
to know the remedy,
for the pain,
deep in there.
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