💮I know I'm sane,
till the time death scares me.💮
Wondering....
Clarice Lispecto
Me when I write a poem: Yearning for equanimity in such unavailing hour, I collapse, I despair, I weep…
Me when writing a school paper: Donating blood is important because blood is important.
🍀We can't keep expecting anyone else, to fill up a void created by someone else, in our heart. We can't replace other people to numb our own pain. We don't possess the right to pass on our pain to others.
People who were there, had sculptured themselves, curved and crafted their unique shapes in our hearts. Now, when the sculptures are gone, it leaves nothing but those crafted scars behind. We can't force any other artpiece into the box of a specifically crafted void.
Instead, why don't we try to find our buried selves into the crafted scars? Why don't we breathe through the voids created by them? When theres nothing left to save, let us relish the freedom.🍀
Truth is,
You will never be unconditionally loved,
Be it in any way of your life,
Even the yellow leaf will love you,
Till you're the reason it has shed.
And thats the time, guilt and innocence,
Belong to the same labyrinth.
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.
Afterlife:~
As the blinking lights turned pale,
And pulse rate slowly failed
to evoke a wave of life,
Her eyelids, remained open under the light;
Her lips, breathed its last,
With her skin and blue veins, fading lifeless, fast.
Her last she could see, her last she could hear,
Great darkness engulfing her,
Her family screaming in tears.
A heavenly peace, taking over her terrestrial body,
Her pain melt away, shes now a dead old lady.
A beam of light, from somewhere afar,
Taking her soul away, glowing brighter and brighter.
She approached close, and the light showed her,
A life she had received,never lived so far.
Before her she sees a child,
Screaming in tears,
"None but her!", hardly she exclaims in joy,
Her heart dropped, looking at the broken toy,
Her favourite one, she held it so dearly,
No toy could surpass, the broken doll's beauty.
Again, being taken aback by the light,
She faces a thirteen year old,
With eyes glowing bright.
She was amazed by her new nose piercing,
She forgot how she scarred herself, silently bleeding.
Soon she was placed before her adult self,
She met a lady in thirtie's,
Disappointed she felt,
As she was too obssesed with a perfect marriage,
She missed her daughter's first walk,at a tender age.
Shifting back, at that deep darknees again,
She sees a mirror, and a wretched reflection starring,
She meets an old lady, filled with regrets,
Regrets of never living a life, that
she was gifted.
All her life she spent on perfections,
Crying over things, out of her
ambitions.
Chasing the unreachable, she never lived the life,
Her mind was clouded with
"If"s and "why"s.
Old lady at reflection,laments her biggest regret,
The unrelished life of discontent, slowly faded.
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.
🌸 You're not in the track, when you think you clinging with me will make you something more than my acquaintances. Where I don't grow, where I don't flourish, where there is lack of personality and intellect, I leave. I won't hurt you with the truth, I won't shut the door over you without giving you a peek about me and forgetting that you like me in the first place. I love, I pay back, but I'll pursue gestures that will show you instances of where we're not togather and your self respect still remains. I may avoid you, normalize you from something special, and you won't realize where the bondings are going loose. Eventually it will hurt you less, because I'll make you forget me.🌸
💮Be careful what you perceive or learn from your past. You can't turn something into your source of pain and a jealousy of not being enough from where you were suppose create your strong fundamentals and nurture yourself. Be careful as well, whom you reveal it to. Your past isn't worthy of to be put out amidst every little argument. Putting up your past, this could be one of the easiest ways to break someone. Don't push yourself into that pathetic version of you.💮
One of the major things I hate is,
Don't make anyone guilty for being born. There are other ways to manifest your anger. But making someone apologize for existing, throughout their life, is horrible and no one posses a right to do that against existence.
||"Once you have accepted your flaws, no one can use them against you"..🤍|| ● 4w5 instagram: celeste.iven
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