#mywork

146 posts
  • girlwhowritespoetry 3w

    The day my enemies fall, cry and break
    Is the day
    They lower
    Me six feet
    Under
    ©girlwhowritespoetry

  • girlwhowritespoetry 3w

    If you could hear my demons scream and
    my Monsters claw
    Maybe You would understand
    Why I do it all
    ©girlwhowritespoetry

  • krupasomaiya 3w

    Khushi ya khudkhushi

    Esa kehte hai ki Pyaar sabko Khushi deta hai Esa kehte hai ki Pyaar sabko Khushi deta hai Magar khudkhushi Kar bohto ko maayusi deta hai
    ©krupasomaiya

  • krupasomaiya 3w

    DIL❤️
    Tu sath tha mere jab sabne ye Dil toda
    Bas fark itna tha ki tune hi usko joda!!

    ©krupasomaiya

  • girlwhowritespoetry 3w

    My heart makes a sound
    but am I really working?

    My mouth turns into a smile
    but am I really happy?

    My head nods in agreement
    but am I really listening?

    I work
    but am I really alive?

    ©girlwhowritespoetry

  • girlwhowritespoetry 3w

    You can't hear how loud the voices of my thoughts get

    You can't see the marks my demons leave

    You can't feel the pain of my depression eating its way though every thought and dream I have.

    You can't
    But
    I
    Can

    But oh god I have a questions
    When will this end?
    ©girlwhowritespoetry

  • girlwhowritespoetry 4w

    The Bluejay and The Mockingbird

    The Mockingbird sings
    pain and sorrow.
    They Sing their heart's pain which broke there heart into two.
    The Mockingbird sings in its cage even though the bars were
    never closed.

    This, the bluejay can't
    deny.
    For the bluejay is broken too, trying to fix the mirror that was never fixed but covered up.


    However, the Bluejay love the Mockingbird with every peace of there
    Broken soul.

    This, the Mockingbird can't
    dany.

    When the Bluejay sings the song that was long lasted in its heart; the Mockingbird smiles but tears full their eyes as they say
    "I know my Bluejay, I always have but I can not let you love me for my song shall bring you only sorrow and pain. I know you love me, this I can't deny
    but you my
    love deserve to fly high.
    I know the gold heart you behold is to pure to see for I am not the one you need. I do hope you know my Bluejay, you will always be the one I need."
    ©girlwhowritespoetry

  • ari_xo 4w

    My song

    It's 10:06pm and my heart is racing like a drug fast
    like adrealine, I hear no sound, no tv, no tick, no purr,
    not even my fan.
    The only thing I hear, and feel is my hearbeat.
    It's a beat, it's a song, it's a lyric,
    like a melody that plays in my head over, over, and over again.
    It's my my favorite tone because it's my song.
    ©ari_xo

  • jeeya_shakya 4w

    Does anyone know the exact meaning of 'tears' ? Can anyone describe it in the correct words? We can hardly make out a perfect sentence and if we can define it in words we can hardly compile all of them because none of us can do it perfectly as the most of us fear it, hate it and are furious at it.
    Google defines tears as :-
    "a drop of clear salty liquid secreted from glands in a person's eye when they cry or when the eye is irritated."
    May be this is true. But people still don't find the answer accurate to fulfill the void in their hearts and brains that has been searching for the exact words to define tears. They surf through the Internet, Wikipedia, books, lexicon, novels, poetries but fail to understand or explain it because people think it is beyond anyone's understanding, while it is within our understanding. We just need to clear our mind, filter our thoughts, purify our soul, widen our brains, then we shall get the meaning of Everything.
    Everything about the world.
    'The End'
    -an excerpt from my journal
    #part5 #whataretears #myownwords #mywork #tentgrader
    -Thanks for reading
    If you haven't read all the parts of 'What are tears' by Jeeya Shakya, then please visit @jeeya_shakya my profile and go through them.
    Love you all so much
    @readwriteunite @writersnetwork @mirakeeworld

    Read More

    What are Tears?
    Part 5
    (The meaning of tears)

    Please visit my profile and go through the captions of 'What are tears?' series!
    This is the final part.
    ©jeeya_shakya

  • jeeya_shakya 4w

    Humans cry to cool their sweat, the sweat indeed is a reason for tears. People cry when blood emerges from the deep wound of agitation, disgrace and vulnerability.
    Blood, sweat and tears are friends who cannot exist without each other and are enemies when together. Their togetherness is a sin for the others because they are together the sign of threat and fragility.
    If eyes are the reflection of heart, then tears are the emulation of blood in heart.
    Everything in this world, the wind, the heat. the trees, the land, the water, the sorrow, the joy, departure, union, manifestation, hesitation, commodity and everything that belongs to this universe are the reasons of tears rolling down the people's cheeks.
    Everything mentioned above can tear everything apart to call the tears.Tears can heal the severe scars.They can like everything,shatter the existence, ignite the shelter, defend us from insanity and succour in times of distress.
    To be continued...
    -an excerpt from my journal
    #part4 #myownwords #mywork #teenwriter #whataretears #tenthgrader @writersnetwork @readwriteunite

    Read More

    What are Tears?
    Part 4
    (Blood, sweat and tears)

    Please visit my profile and go through the captions of 'What are tears?' series!
    This is Part 4 out of 5
    ©jeeya_shakya

  • jeeya_shakya 4w

    Everyone complains about tears. They say, 'Why tears never leave us on our own?'.
    Everyone talks about tears, tears and money. Not knowing that the money is the reason for our tears.
    People ask, 'How does the money come?'. From hardwork indeed. 'Where does the money come from?'. A student would say from the bank, a farmer would say from the crops and a merchant would say from the 'Jewels of Luck.'
    Everyone has a different perspective.
    There are many books, stories, definitions on the topic 'Money' but hardly any on 'Tears'.
    Poets mention about tears all the time but most of the time they forget to explain their true meaning, their proper meaning and don't find it important to describe their features and originality or they fail to do so because it is really pathetic and depressing for the poets to explain the meaning of tears. Even the mentioning of tears can make their heart ache with pain and dreadful sorrow.
    To be continued...
    -an excerpt from my journal
    #part3 #whataretears #myownwords #mywork #teenwriter #tenthgrader #peekintomyjournal

    Read More

    What are Tears?
    Part 3
    (Everyone complains about tears)

    Please visit my profile and go through the captions of 'What are tears?' series!
    This is Part 3 out of 5
    ©jeeya_from_nepal

  • jeeya_shakya 4w

    Someone questioned me, 'Do men cry?'

    The myth created by humans in this world defines, 'Men don't cry, they shouldn't.'
    If men cry they'll be called as loosers and are bullied by each man in the society.
    But myths are not facts, they are never true.
    Yes, men cry. They cry because they can't yield much income like the other men richer than them.
    A man cries because he worries about his family, he cries in the fear that he might not be able to feed his family. A man cries watching failure lie beneath him.
    We say we have never seen men cry. It is because they cry only in front of their woman, their companion and the ones they love.
    If men don't cry they'll be weaker.Crying makes a man tough but some men do not want to agree this. It's a pity for them. They like to become the mythical creatures the society made them. They've become the puppets of the mythical society.
    Men also cry and women must understand them. They're not weak but they also have emotions which want to be poured out from their conjusted hearts.
    Everyone cries. Women, men, children and the old, the Gods, the demons, the philosophers, everyone cries.
    Everyone sheds their tears in the time of happiness, worries and pain.
    To be continued....
    -an excerpt from my journal
    #part2 #mencry #men #man #tears #teenwriter #tenthgrader #myownwords #mywork #whataretears

    Read More

    What are Tears? (Someone questioned me, 'Do men cry?')
    Part 2

    Please visit my profile and go through the captions of 'What are tears?' series!
    ©jeeya_from_nepal

  • jeeya_shakya 4w

    Some wise men say tears are elixir of life,
    Some pessimists say they are poison to death.
    But what really are these which are creating a huge confusion in the lives of people of this world?
    I've wandered all round the world, I've seen tears rolling down the cheeks of every person. I've seen a mother crying for her children. I've seen a father fetching tears to protect his family, I've seen a child weeping to fulfill his desires and I've seen a lonely person crying in emptiness.
    Why do people cry? Is it because they want to pour out every deep feeling suppressed and hidden inside their hearts?
    A person cries when happiness encounters him, a person cries when he suffers, when pain becomes his friend from enemy.
    Women cry because their men go away from them, they cry because their children keep asking them about their fathers.
    'Why is our family different from the others?'.
    These words from her children make her cry every time.
    Women cry to see the love of their lives returning to them, they cry watching their children play with their fathers.
    To be continued.........
    -an excerpt from my journal
    #part1 #tobecontinued #mywork #tears #words #deep #teenwriter #broken #tenthgradersjournal #myownwords

    Read More

    What are Tears?
    Part 1

    Please visit my profile and go through all the captions of 'What are tears?' series!
    ©jeeya_from_nepal

  • nataliaali 5w

    دل ايک بیرنگ کینوس کی طرح ہے جس پر محبت اپنے رنگ سے ایک خوبصورت تصویر بنادیتی هے.


    ©nataliaali

  • safiyyahalii 5w

    Hello Mr Weirdo chapter 9 part 1

    Having no exact date for when the baby was due to come, I figured it was best to start baby clothes shopping.

    Plus the image of parading down the street with a butt naked newborn didn't sit well with me.

    I would be lying if I was to say that I still resented the bump. If anything we have grown more closer. Perhaps it had to do with the countless dreams I've been having, of a beautiful chubby cheeked baby boy, with lightly curled silky dark hair.

    Though I'm aware that it may be a figment of my imagination, I am certain that the baby I carry is a boy.

    Pulling on my knee high leather boots, the realisation of the fact that I'd be shopping alone had me pushing my tongue beneath my teeth, swallowing the tears in the corners of my eyes.

    Sure I liked living alone, but we're all human, and sometimes we desire the presence of someone other than ourselves.

    I wondered if I should call Selina and ask her to join me, the vivid imagination of Selina and I both hobbling with bags of goodies was enticing.

    Thumb hovering over her name, I pressed the call button.

    It rang twice before a male voice answered, panicking I quickly cut the call.

    Well that rules out any company.

    Running my fingers through my shoulder length curly hair, I grabbed my car keys, making sure to lock my front door.

    Since stairs was not an option, I begrudgingly decided to wait for the lift, which was something I usually tended to avoid, since the ride down always tended to make me dizzy.

    To the point where I begin to see double, and think that everyone has a twin.

    Now that is an event I do not wish to repeat.

    Stepping through the open doors of the orange glowing lift, I head straight for the number pad, and punch the 'G' button.

    It took me a moment to realise that I was not riding the lift alone.

    Towards the end, on the edge of the sliding doors stood two smartly dressed men in identical black suits; their red ties resting against their blazers. I would've thought them harmless if it were not for the taller man, his hair, so black it looked blue, was tied up in to a pony tail, but that was not as scary, as the permanent lift to the corner of his lips, in what I could only describe as a malicious smirk.

    His companion, though he didn't share the same looks, yet the suspicious looking brown bag clutched tightly in his hand spoke otherwise.

    I could only be glad when it was over, for as I made my way towards the car, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I was being watched.


    ©safiyyahalii

  • durriyah 6w

    Part- 2

    2)Agar kitabo se mohabbat karni hoti ,

    To waqt ko kusoor kyu dete,

    Rahe jinse kabhi milni na hoti ,

    Unse takdeer kyu milne dete..
    ©durriyah

  • safiyyahalii 6w

    Self proclaimed saints chapter 8

    The steady rhythm of arabic recitation was the antidote for my untimely blackout.

    I could already tell that it was Selina from her voice, and although she didn't sound like she had a good pace, the words were still somewhat soothing.

    A light caress of air helped dry the tiny beads of sweat along my hairline.

    For a while, I lay still, body numb with fatigue, I had no idea why, but it felt like I'd been chased by a bunch of monkey people.

    Peeling my eyes open, I found Selinas plump body crouched over me, gripping a thin magazine between her fingers, as she gently fanned my face.

    Her mouth broke into a smile, as her low whispers halted, she blew over the top of my head.

    "This shall protect you" she said bringing a glass of water to my lips, which I drank greedily.

    A well deserved kick from the inner walls of my stomach, almost had me coughing up the liquid.

    Yeah drink up kid, even though I still have no idea of what the fudge you're doing inside of me.

    I know, I tend to have imaginary conversations with the bump every now and again. But I am a soon to be parent, better to accept fate than fight with it.

    "You ok" Selina asked, clearly she wanted an explanation, I mean nobody fainted for nothing, but then again when pregnant, women were always prone to be anaemic.

    "Yeah just a spell of weakness you know" I croaked, dismissing it with a small smile.

    Didn't seem like she brought it, for her mouth stretched into a thin line "I don't think so".

    Feigning innocence I merely fluttered my eyelashes and softened my voice,"What do you mean?"

    "You were muttering in a strange language, and your voice..." she visibly gulped, her complexion paling slightly, as though she were recalling an unpleasant event.

    "Really? Oh I was probably dreaming" I laughed.

    Right Lila, this convincing game was working really well. Not.

    "Im not going to sugar coat it Lila"

    Oh please do, 2 years of physical torture would make me lie till I was blue in the face.

    "You have a demom inside of you" there it was, painful truth.

    Don't get me wrong I had a hunch all along that I was somewhat possessed, and its not just something that I read off the internet.

    I mean my parents had tried their best to 'cleanse' me, but it was all in vain. Since my father hired some saint guy, who to be honest, looked and talked like a local construction worker.

    Anyway this 'saint' was his idea of an exorcism, which was to bath me inside and out with boiling hot water.

    Imagine drinking hot tea straight from the kettle, obviously you'd sip at it right, who doesnt love a hot drink?

    Well, imagine being forced to gulp down glass upon on glass of boiling hot water, followed by buckets of boiling water all over my body.

    Being chained to a chair for countless hours, didn't make it easy at all. During my cleansing period , I was not allowed to see my parents, not even my brothers who to this day try to keep in touch with me.

    But you know, some things never leave your mind.

    So one day I wrote a suicide note to my family, having enough money in my pocket to get myself out of the area.To Selena I could only force a smile, and promise her that I'd try and take care of myself.

    Knowing fully well, that I'd rather suffer and give birth, than endure the pain of hell.



    ©safiyyahalii

  • safiyyahalii 7w

    Red chapter 7

    Voices, not sure how many, began a distant humming within her mind.

    The humming was slow at first, almost unnoticeable, but with time, the volume started to increase, to the point where she was certain that her eardrums would explode.

    A mumble jumble of words muddled together, to create a despicable sound. The urge to block her ears from the powerful chant, was strong, yet an invisible force, had her glued to the ground.

    Where the ground was she had no idea.

    Thick mist of grey fog, cleared slightly, to reveal a tall black cloaked figure, its face featureless and smooth.

    It carried an insidious air, its entire being emanating an evil vibe, that had her trembling.

    Where there should have been eyes, there were twin black holes, one of them glowing red, seeming to stare deep within her soul. She felt an excruciating tug at every corner of her head, and a high pitched ringing in her ears, somewhere a child began to scream.

    Her mind and body had begun to succumb to it, she was losing control, no matter how hard she fought, it would always be there.

    Waiting.




    ©safiyyahalii

  • ellobo 7w

    Being a SINGLE MOM

    Being a SINGLE Mom is staying up late when you have to get up at 4 am the next day for work even when your child is not sick because they are wound up tighter than a toy and just want to be by your side and talk

    Being a Single Mom is understanding that even when it's the Dad's day he will use every excuse not to take a child that is sick.

    Being a Single Mom is understanding that you may be called hero but you are still the "bad cop" and Dad will always remain the hero. Even when he takes the "bad cop" roll

    Being a Single Mom is being blamed for dad not being there anymore and the reasons he left. Its being told they want daddy and not you and that they hate you.

    Being a Single Mom is sleepless nights and early mornings to a face that tells you they love you and it brings you all the joy in the world.

    Being a MOM is feeling guilty for reprimanding your child by taking a toy away or using a stern voice after you've said "NO" what seems like 1 million times....and they still touch it...pull it...break it....

    Being a Single Mom is seeing those first things and feel so alone that you have no one to share it with...

    Being a single mom IS raising your child so they respect you even if they will never understand the struggle. Raising your child so they understand manners and respect for themselves in this life.

    Being a SINGLE MOM is about raising a STRONG child so that they will never settle for anything less then they deserve.

    After all it took the separation of a not so perfect relationship to realize that you where teaching them how to settle...NOW RISE Mom. RISE.


    ©ellobo

  • safiyyahalii 7w

    Cat got your tongue chapter 6

    The day my stomach had inflated so much that it was impossible to hide. I decided that I'd have to drop work if I wanted this to remain under the carpet. And the only way to succeed without arousing suspicion banter, is to state mental health - like depression. Perks of attending useless meetings, was that you could find ways to bend the rules.

    At least for 6 months I'll be left alone.

    Technically it wasn't a lie, if I really thought about it, my condition was slowly sucking my happiness away, like a slow motion vacuum, easing the goodness out of me - piece by piece, till I emerged an empty vessel. One wet and soggy morning, furious buzzing, roused me from a much appreciated nap.

    Grumbling profanities under my breath I hit the button, not bothering to pick up the receiver and see who it was. This had better be good, else my 'guest' was going to hear a mouthful from me.

    My breath halted as I glimpsed the familiar red streaked hair of Selina, heaving herself up the stairs, since the lift was out of order.

    I recalled the time she used to arch her back in an attempt to dim the pain. Hair in a ponytail for a change, she looked nothing close to her 48 years. Yet the frown creasing her forehead, signalled the visit was anything but pleasant.

    "Selina!" I gave what I hoped was a welcoming smile. "What's good! Come in" she obliged but not before delivering a long hard stare at my stomach, and that's when my smile froze on my lips.

    Coverage had slipped my mind, and now the proof of the unborn child, was out in the open. I swallowed loudly, a lump in my throat, as I fought to form a sentence for my waiting host.

    "Can I get you anything?" I asked, mentally face palming at the horrible timing as Selina silently signalled for me to take a seat on the opposite couch.

    Her large chocolate eyes were glued to the grotesque protrusion that stretched unattractively. I noticed she hadn't allowed herself to take a look around the room. Not that there was anything worth ogling at, apart from the 32 inch flat screen tv I'd purchased on a christmas sale, the small living room was quite plain.

    "How long" it was a statement, rather than a question. Glancing up, I debated on whether I should answer or not.

    Mouth twisting to the side, a sour sensation exploded at either side of my mouth, maybe it was the taste of bittersweet reality.

    Who was I kidding, silence never worked in these situations. I licked my lips, pulling at the frayed edges of my sleeve.

    "uhm about a month" I mouthed, the words barely left my lips before Selina took the lord's name "God" she groaned "How did this happen, who was it" . Once again my tongue was tied, the weight of my unspoken answer suspended in the air, awaiting it's explosion.

    "It wasn't..." words frozen on the edge of my lips, the inability to complete my sentence, as I felt my resolve drain from me. Throat gurgling, eyes rolling, toes twitching, my entire being had begun to convulse, as though I was being electrocuted by countless volts.

    A strangled gasp,then nothing.




    ©safiyyahalii