_anushka__

What's worth dying for, if not love?

Grid View
List View
Reposts
  • _anushka__ 13h

    Sometimes, you've to let go
    of the person to hold on to the feeling.








    Anushka

  • _anushka__ 14w

    Hey mirakeeans!!

    I'm so sorry I've not been active since past few days!! I have been busy in all the assignments and college stuff. And I'm gonna be super busy for a couple of months from now as it's my last year of graduation.

    I'll try to read your posts if I get any time, but trust me I can't write anything while in this chaos. I have to focus on my finals and also prepare for the future ahead.

    Hope you all will understand and be supportive. I need this time and your support equally. Thanks for the encouragement you've given me so far. I'll write as soon as I'm free.

  • _anushka__ 15w

    Do you ever sit back
    and watch yourself
    become the person
    you hate the most?

    - I do.

  • _anushka__ 16w

    Fairytales enchant us, because they have an ending. Probably a happy one. Or maybe a tragedy, but they end. I wish it could be like that with us. Alas, this is life, and life goes on, no matter what.

    And what was a fairytale once, shows all of its colours. You could never fathom the myriad emotions you experience for a single person.

    Past the initiation, where everything is sparkling, you slowly descend into reality. You see the cracks beneath the shining surface, you see them as a real person for the first time.

    You see that the people who once stood by you against your demons, are now plagued with their own. Maybe in that process, they hurt you once or twice, planting the seeds of venom inside your gut. Then starts the reverse of what brought you together in the first place, then starts the unloving.

    The way you fell for each and every small bit of them, new small details about them make you fall out of it.
    And your heart, the loathsome being it is, takes all of their their qualities for granted now.

    Here comes your evil mind, focussing on each of their flaws, watering the sapling of doubt into a giant banyan,
    Its roots eating away your insides,
    Its branches emerging out of your chest.

    And then, finally, you ask yourself,
    "Are they really the one?"

    This question haunts you day and night,
    And you torture yourself for you feel guilty,
    Guilty of the future, because it seems to go nowhere.

    You regret the decision to involve another person in your mess.
    And you cannot stand to take the blame for breaking their hearts,
    Because being the victim is always easier than being guilty, right?

    So you don't want to back out.
    Neither does your ego allow it.
    What's the option now?

    Continue falling out of love,
    Until one of you decides to have mercy upon you and walks away, finally ending the nightmare that your fairytale has become.

    - Anushka

    #emerge
    #pod #ajv #writerstolli #mirakee
    @mirakee
    @writersnetwork
    @writerstolli
    @soulwriter
    @73mishrasanju
    @laughing_soul
    @xyl_ayvlis
    @saba_rizvi
    @sayan_majhi
    @branthan

    Read More

    The Unloving

    And then, finally, you ask yourself,
    "Are they really the one?"

  • _anushka__ 16w

    So once there was this girl,
    She had an addiction to pain.

    She would find people whose
    Hearts were broken,
    love their pain
    With all of herself
    until the pain became hers,
    their hearts mended and
    they felt alive.

    And then,
    she would walk away,
    Taking all of the pain
    With herself.
    And the funny part is,
    no one missed her,
    Because they had new hearts
    To find new loves around them.

    Then one day,
    She met a boy,
    His collection of pain
    As large as her.
    He too, was an addict.

    And then started
    The apocalypse.

    They fell in love
    With each other's pain
    Each trying to take
    Away the treasure of the other,
    But neither of them
    Was able to gather all
    Of the pain to themselves.

    So now they continue
    To be together,
    Loving, hating,
    Smothering, tormenting
    One another,
    Inflicting pain and then
    Taking it away,

    In the hope that maybe
    Someday one of them
    Would have their heart mended
    And finally find a new way.

    - Anushka


    #treasure

    #pod #ajv #writerstolli #mirakee
    @mirakee
    @writersnetwork
    @writerstolli
    @soulwriter
    @73mishrasanju
    @laughing_soul
    @xyl_ayvlis
    @saba_rizvi
    @sayan_majhi
    @branthan

    Read More

    .

  • _anushka__ 17w

    Her eyes,
    His refuge.

    His heart,
    Her solace.

  • _anushka__ 17w

    .

  • _anushka__ 17w

    I know I was wrong. I know I shouldn't have played you like that, and I know that you still love me as much as you did before I engraved the hate onto your heart.

    There are times when people don't know what their heart actually wants. There are times when people confuse empathy with love, and there are times when all they really need is a distraction from their misery.

    Those are the times when one makes the most condemnable mistakes, those are the times when people stumble upon the paths forbidden by their conscience.

    For in those times, we become the most selfish. We neglect the consequences of our mistakes, drowning and numbing our pains through exploiting another poor soul. The one which is pure, the one which has yet remained unharmed by this contagious disease, the one which loves us with the purity of a child.

    But I guess everyone has to grow up, and our souls are no exception. They grow day by day as they bear wounds and fill them up with new hope and love.

    Love is the most contagious disease of all, for no soul in this universe can neglect the only one truth that there is: Love.

    Love is the cause of all of our happiness, and it is the source of endless grief too. And love is what nurtures a soul, through affection and through pain.

    Then there's that tiny little spark always left behind the storms, hope. Hope is what makes a person get up in the morning, hope is what urges them to move ahead even if they have to drag each and every step. Hope is the spark of life, and once gone, it kills the soul, if not the body, of a person.


    Same was the case with me. That tiny spark inside me urged me to accept you, in the hope that maybe someday, I'll be able to move on, and in reality I thought that I'd moved on.

    But love is a wicked, wicked thing, dear. It had planted itself in some corner of my heart where it kept growing secretly, without my notice. I couldn't erase the love blooming inside me for the person who had broken me. I made myself happy, even though...

    I don't think I could ever complete this letter, but I do know one thing.

    I'm not guilty, not anymore. The vile mistakes I made, I think I've paid enough for them, and I think maybe there is more to come in stock already.

    Just know that this was not the end, the spark lives on in you and you'll eventually find another pure soul, maybe to harm it yourself this time.

    Maybe then you'll realize that whatever we may want or whatever we may do, every soul has to be wounded in one way or another to grow, and in one way or another, it'll eventually heal itself.

    - Anushka

    #grief
    #pod #ajv #writerstolli #mirakee
    @mirakee
    @writersnetwork
    @writerstolli
    @soulwriter
    @73mishrasanju
    @laughing_soul
    @xyl_ayvlis
    @saba_rizvi
    @sayan_majhi

    Read More

    To the boy
    I never loved.

  • _anushka__ 17w

    We romanticize the moth destroying itself in the flames, we never talk about the pain of the fire, watching the ones who love her being destroyed by her own self.

    ..........................................................................


    I stop, I stare.
    At the bottom of my doorstep,
    There you are.
    Waiting, wailing, as has been
    Your life since you fell for me.

    I didn't ask for it now, did I?
    I didn't pull you down into the
    Wormhole that my life is.
    But you, like a cliché moth,
    Came for the fire.

    They say fire burns.
    It is a complicated phrase, dear.
    Fire "burns" you, true.
    But fire "burns".
    It has been burning,
    All heat and light exploding
    Out of its wild dancing flames.
    The wild, the chaos, the death!
    That is my true nature,

    And to watch everyone
    And everything that tries
    to come near me,
    To offer me love,
    Being engulfed in my
    own flames is my only destiny.

    I see you begging for
    Pieces of my affection,
    For some care,
    for some recognition.
    How can I?
    To just encourage you
    to come further?
    To see you being destroyed
    Like the many before you?

    Trust me, it's better this way.
    At least you are alive enough
    To feel, to crave, to want.

    Me, I've been dead since forever.
    The guilt, the regrets, the self loathe.
    Oh, you have no idea.

    So let it be.

    You keep cutting out a piece
    Of your heart for me every day,
    And I'll keep burning them,
    For that's what I am. Fire.
    And fire needs coal, after all.

    - Anushka


    @mirakee
    @writersnetwork
    @writerstolli
    @soulwriter
    @73mishrasanju
    @laughing_soul
    @xyl_ayvlis
    @saba_rizvi
    @sayan_majhi

    Read More

    The object of love

    "Of all the poems written on love there are only a few that talk about the pain of being the object of love."

    - Nicklaus Michaelson, The Originals.

  • _anushka__ 18w

    Hey guys!! On this Valentine's day, let's write about the pain of being the object of love.

    True, we mostly see one side of the coin, the lover's pain and desperation.

    What about the pain of being loved? True, it's an extremely lucky thing to be loved with such passion, but what about the pressure to always live up to their expectations if you love them, and the guilt of breaking their heart if you don't?

    Write a story, quotation, poem, or whatever comes to your mind and tag the post with #object

    Read More

    *Special Challenge*

    "Of all the poems written on love there are only a few that talk about the pain of being the object of love."

    - Nicklaus Michaelson, The Originals.