93 posts
  • movsworld 7w

    I Can't

    I wish the world would stop when mine did.
    I wouldn't go far
    Just to where you used to be
    Where we used to be.
    I'd pour over every photo of you
    And gently place every last memory
    in the deepest safest place in my heart.
    The clock could freeze
    And I would take my time
    To truly except your absence.

    But it doesn't.
    And I can't.


  • deepflowsoul 10w

    Tale 3

    A peculiar feeling grieving what you never had,
    A heavy weightless void screaming at dad.
    Darkness envelops and hides as we gallop,
    An adventure against cliff sides pushing betrayal the more we develop.
    I grew into a butterfly you wanted to hide,
    But my perseverance forced us to glide.
    You snipped my wings, and we both fell.
    My love caught me, and you lost yourself.

  • afamiliarvoice 15w

    Ill be ok.

    Here I am, at the end of my ways.
    Here I hold in one hand a slow beating heart halfed while the other is missing.
    In the other a knife as a replacement to a soluable vexation.
    Should I finish the job, and kill what's left of this shrunken lifeforce that beats but rarely throbs.
    Trying to convince myself through insanity that I should finish the job.
    Or would you like me to continue closing these shutters, to drown out my sobs.
    To record and play fake music for one to listen to the lyrics of my alternate reality.
    Whether you are guilty to know the truth, or not.
    It's not my job.
    But it must be such a delight to not see in, but to hear fake laughing that has been robbed from tonics that are distilled from the finest of cobs.
    This. I know I should not.
    Then again, a sign is displayed on my front door that states " Disturbed lives here, so please do not"
    To this, I'll take another shot.
    While I scream a thousand pains as it reverbs until I cannot stop.
    Until my liver rots away with everything else.
    Until my pictures are displayed next to the honorable and fallen.
    Even though I am not even worthy enough to have miseries foot pressed against my back while I'm crawling.
    Yes. I may be "comfortable in my own misery" as you state.
    While Ive preached chapters to anyone who tried to fathom, while dubiousity overstayed and displayed to my dismay a million times.
    In the midst I never expected an answer, or anything for anyone to say.
    While I knew there might have been a chance.
    Or it just maybe might have been too late.
    While your more than welcome to come visit, open arms with respect will be gracefully paid.
    To feel bad or sorry just for fake masks of clarification and false hope for a hungry snake.
    Sure ok, whatever you may.
    For my sake, it is not to obfuscate.
    But to educate at the end of the day.
    Like a committment without tieing the knot.
    Promise me that you wont end up wanting to stay.
    As long I am here.
    You'll be ok.
    And if I am not.
    I'll be ok.

  • afamiliarvoice 15w

    On the way home.

    Il look out the window, wanting to bring up my fears.
    Knowing one day il be all alone, and you won't be here.
    No matter how much you tell me your spirit, will always be near.
    It must be scared to know your dieing.
    To put on a smile, when I know inside your crying.
    To lie to me and say your doing ok.
    When I know, your really hurting and getting worse each day.
    We're both dieing, just in different ways.
    And the sad thing is. we can see it on each other's face.
    But I want to scream and tell you to stay.
    I know that'll break you, and cause you more pain.
    Of me losing you.
    And you losing me.
    Having to look up at the sky, and wondering if you can see.
    When I'm walking down a grocery lane, seeing your silhouette in front of me.
    I dont know how hard this is going to get, or going to be.
    You wont be able to see, how much I've grown.
    Not being able to tell me how much you love my poetry that I wrote.
    I won't even be able to conversate with you over the phone.
    I'm sorry momma.
    I have soo much I want to bring up, and say.
    But this is the only thing I can think.
    On the way home.

  • afamiliarvoice 15w

    The basement.

    Oh lord. not again.
    I have go back down and get something from down in.
    Flip the light switch and head right in.
    Into the twilight zone of nostalgia.
    Why do the these memories turn into a form of psychalgia?
    Its wierd, and it's more common than you think.
    But more than I'd ever care to feel.
    Or tell.
    Well. I have pictures Down here, that are priceless.
    That could never sell, way too valuable memory wise as well.
    Painted when she was in her own hell.
    Knowing she was dieing, covering her face of pain with a veil.
    And she did it so well.
    You would never know, or could tell.
    she'd give you a laugh, and a smile that would melt.
    Then give you a kiss and hug, and bid you farewell.
    But who knew It would be the last.
    It came out of nowhere, and she headed down really fast.
    And I was too slow.
    To show.
    To tell.
    How much I loved her in person.
    Instead of sending it by mail.
    To have guilt about your shortcoming demise, to no one's avail.
    I should have been there more, but instead I chose to hide inside a shell.
    Hiding away from the possibility, that time would tell.
    Death would come by, and that I could smell.
    Cornering my beloved mother, and swooping her from beneath.
    Setting one last sail.
    Never again, having the chance to tell her one last time.
    "Trust me, your going to get well."

  • afamiliarvoice 15w

    The room.

    I always find myself inside your room.
    But my mind is locked always outside the door.
    Your possessions are here for me to claim.
    Should I post all your work, and keep them in a frame?
    So everyone would know you, and I could speak your tale?
    I question myself if I should just throw it all away.
    Or burn them all to a roast, and give my last farewell.
    I've been also thinking about putting this house up for sale.
    Start over, to try to move on again, and again each day.
    But both questions, and answer's seem soo I'll-defined and vague.
    Kind of like holding you in my arm's when I begged you to stay.
    As you closed your eyes, breathing your last suffocating breath away.
    Whether to open your eyes and try to wake you up, with a "hey!".
    Or to keep them closed, and curse God again.
    And again.
    And again.
    And again.
    Yes. I know it's a sin.
    To curse my God from within.
    But you could have just taken my, flesh and skin.
    To cast him out, and challenge him, so I felt like I'd win.
    Because to me there is no end.
    A unforgettable statement, that will never end.
    Praying with promises, and devotion, with a AMEN.
    Just remember we'll have to see each other.
    And I cant wait for redemption.
    It's only soo far away.

  • afamiliarvoice 15w

    This home.

    Was once alive and bursting with energy.
    Not once was anyone against each other as enemies.
    This house remains dormant.
    With no hope of ever coming back to the once happy place that was well established.
    Dirty dishes left uncleaned on a rack, dirty and over stacked.
    Blinds left closed for the sun to never enter.
    T.v. guides from last year, and junk mail scattered claiming "Lotto winner."
    Man I wish I was.
    But instead I'm a loser.
    Reaping what god says I've sowed.
    The grass remains overflowed, never to be trimmed, cut, or mowed.
    Day's are passing and I'm starting to get thinner, and old.
    Depression has been the constant dinner, and I can never get full.
    My friend says it's all in my head, and it's bull.


    If they could only understand the effects of losing someone you loved to the very last end.
    Then they would fully comprehend.
    It would be such a godsend.
    For someone to help me put this to an end.
    Because I am the man in the box.
    With a gun that is always fully loaded, but im only half cocked.
    Waiting for the moment, to drop the hammer on the pin, then I stop.
    Why not.
    Hell I don't know.
    I'm still trying to figure out who's pulling the curtains to this show.
    Canceling the devils ovation.
    Delaying this sensitive situation.
    I dont know how much longer I can stop, and go.
    Its not like I can go anywhere else.
    I'm already in a hole of a home.
    That is empty, with not a ring or a tone.
    And it's not going to leave me alone, nor let me go.

  • quotescribe 16w


    Deep inside heart ❤ something hurting
    In darkness of night I am grieving
    My eyes are crying & I am trying ✊
    Breath the peace & put the sorrow flying


  • infiniteconfusion 27w


    My sense of reality is warped.
    If I stare out into space long enough, there's a moment in time when it all goes silent where I can actually feel you.
    Sense you.
    Hear you.
    Am I on the brink of insanity?
    In denial?
    Or is it really you trying to comfort me?


  • wespadeshere 31w

    Sometimes my resolve
    Resembles steel
    Stainless untarnished,
    In unwavering zeal,
    Until the sky sobs
    In thick black snow
    Then comes the pain,
    And, oh, the pain.


    #DID #dissociation #derealization #trauma #transformations #denial #oldhabits #experiences #reliving #pushthrough #recognizing #selfcompassion #selflove #acceptance #grieving #healing #isaprocess #nonlinear #takeitslow #growthmindset

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    And, oh, the pain.


  • autumnbreeze 37w

    These redundant hollow breeze
    resemble a sheer voice of defeat.
    It's stillness at obscure pauses
    murmur a name that I feel have been mine.
    Gloomed air trespass words of silence,
    alike a gesture knitted for disposal.
    Shallow flares of deemed sun still ask,
    a question illustrated for arcane truths.
    The coffined room tend to
    verbalize pain today,
    recklessly urgely my wails to activate more.
    I'm barely knowing the mild pounds of heart,
    conscience been at a plight for reassurance.
    These winds try to make your escape
    a moscot of burden,
    plausible rant for a hindering great perhaps.
    I sit here doomed by presence of my own being,
    awaiting for the night to shimmer it's validation.
    Tonight when the moon arrives alongside faint stars,
    a doomed act of condolence will be performed.
    With a sense of your torment words
    about veracious agony,
    I'll see you reside on the moon,
    a home where you'll always prevail.

    P. S.:- A poem l penned today to dedicated the sudden death of an aesthetic actor Sushant Singh Rajput. May he prevail admist the stars he admired the most.

    #poetry, #poetrycommunity, #poem, #writing, #writingishealing, #healing, #solace, #death, #grieving, #potd, #poemoftheday, #aesthetic, #mirakee, #writersnetwork

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @senden_k @sangfroid_soul @soulfulstirrings

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    These winds try to make your escape
    a moscot of burden,
    plausible rant for a hindering great perhaps.

  • anthonyasylum 39w

    Letting Go

    Stand close and cauterize this pain
    Each touch surrenders flesh unto smoldering flame

    Streaming blood gives way to channels of blistering ease bubbling from underneath years of scarred tissue and mindless release

    Carry the smoke from charring bones into your lungs and choke on the memories released from beneath

    Burn me away until there's little left

    With breath like a blow torch I ask that you keep your voice in my ear
    I need to hear it while I fall away from a life I never wanted to be anywhere near

    Now break away from my curling and sickening shrinking skin

    Run from the sight of my last smoldering sigh

    Go outside and let my rain wash the ash from under your stinging eye

  • autumnbreeze 42w

    The bed twitched, making me wonder if it was habitual or a new thing it had started to bother me. Letting me aware about how life had fostered me with many entities of misery. It was daylight enough to make me remind of unwashed clothes and suffering. The first thought which awakened my senses was the bunch of Mogra remaining in the fridge. A tweak of burden shivered my spine. I felt the ache, unaware whether it was the back ache or the pilled torture evolving inside. I took the support of a pillow, for stretching my back. The pillow felt wet and soggy, as if it had drenched every sob I let out for you. The windows were wide open, assuring the rays of some life amidst all the shackles. The faded blue curtains sway in the air, as to flash conscience within numbed baring. The stained colour reminded of the year he had bought it, saying how the pastel effect made him feel like home, safe, near me. On hearing my own thoughts, l mourned for a gasp of wail. The reality of loneliness brought anguish stiches within my body. I shut the windows, letting out a loud noise. I quickly sat on the bed. The small action released a tension in my fragile muscles. My eyes fall upon the curtains, how uncannily it captivated my attention. The faded colour shade a bright presence within the deemed room. As if it echoed in my direction, beguilingly saying, "I am only thing in this room that has some life left inside." I cringed at the mere sight of the curtains. Flames of hatred flush within me, indicating how destiny had betrayed me. A sea of emotions roused in my body, anger, pain, despair, greed, leaving room for a fight about which one being the dominant and the recessive. A pile of his clothes stayed still on the far end of the bed. It's smell disseminated within the room, urging me to think about the loss in my life. Even in dim light, the compact of kajal glinted through thick darkness. Looking at it, made me shrink, as if the life in me was gravitated by that small object, how it hold every facets of me and the life l had drowned in. It made me whine and l mourned, the salty water shedding from my eyes. I cupped my hand on lips to not loose the grip of sustaining. With the help of the end of my pallu, I cleansed my eyes and face. The sari was crumbled all over the place, perceiving like I had bathed in my own sweat. There was no valid reason on my part to change a sari which was untouched from Tuesday's ritual.

    There was a astonishing sound coming from the phone. The ringing was too gaudy to catch my attention into reality. I grabbed the phone, my palm was pale, the veins overshadowed glimpses of aliveness left in me. The white skin reserved place for the hostile blood to do it's job. The dial on the phone read 'Mumma', wandering why was the purpose of her calling. All reasons of her calling, hinge me about vindication. My mind scattered reasons of her call, a trespasser searching for a mile to rest. Was she calling to tell me what this marriage had done to me? Was she calling to accuse me of where love had land me? The ringing wried my attention and press the answer button absently. A wobbling sound came from the other end of the phone. "Hello...Meera?", the voice resorted my conscience. With tears absorbed on dry cheeks, a cry left from my mouth. In a croon whisper I said, " Hello...Mu..mma! " My mind tried very hard to shun the thought of her calling me by my first name, but I couldn't. "Oh dear Meera! I know I shouldn't be calling you now…But, I was wondering...if you would like to take the pictures...of y'all? They never belonged here." Her words left my brain in a hurricane. I felt like my tongue was stunned by the sorrows and I wondered if l was butting my own mouth to feel a muscle. My shivering hand tried to sense the outlines of my face. The fingertips touched my lips, only to feel a terrain laying in desert, dry and devastating. My being couldn't hold this aghast any longer. With bewailing cries, l spoken to her, "Mumma...He's...gone. He's...not coming...back. My Amit...has died." My grief echoed the whole room. I continued to talk, "There's no life left in me. I haven't changed the sari since last Tuesday. His clothes...are consuming...my being. Amit...Mumma...my Amit is not here...anymore." The scream resist the urge to stop, to hold some life. I let out everything remaining in me, "Mumma...the curtains hold the light of the room. He was right, Mumma. A year ago, he had bought the curtains from Lucknow. I had asked him about the dull colour. He had said that the pastel colour reminds him of home, of assurance, it makes him feel nearer to me. Mumma...my home...is no more in existence. I..can't...keep on...sustaining." My mouth was dry as a fish. But no measure of life could save it. I kept swallowing spits of yearn and bemoans of lost love. I grappled the phone tighter this time, as if each word I said depend on being heard, as if it's hearing was the only state of living left in this neglectful world. With a brief amount of stamina, I said, "You know...Mumma...the bunch of Mogra is left in the fridge. The ones he had bought...before the day...of accident. He had bought two such bunch. And l still remember, l had asked him for bring two of them. He had said while placing the Mogra on my braided hair, that he was...ready to be...a father. Mumma...we were going to parents. He was...going to be a father. There lies a brown file on the desk telling me everything is over. And now...I don't know what to do. Mumma...I don't know what...to do. I just don't know." The eyes were blurring my vision. They were sweltered from the heated tears. I felt like l was gulping my own cry. My head was heavy as a paper weight, as my heart felt strokes of relief. I placed my hand on stomach, to feel any sense or movement of the embryo. I heard my mother's voice flowing through my ears, my mind was too bizarre to reciprocate her talking. I tried to regain my conscience, she was saying, "Meera, I know you want to hear a lot of things from me. But, l will on say just one thing. The words l spoke to you before you ran away from the house. I will say them again today. Listen carefully, 'For gaining love, you need to take risk. For achieving a sight of life, you need to live through barren. For feeling a sense of heat, you need to survive the cold. For holding resilience, you need to defeat the terror within you.' Meera, my loving daughter, these are the difficult times. But, l promise something mesmerizing will soon blossom out of it. You still have me, never forget that." A thunder of safety brushed throughout my body. A sign of grace and retaining emerged on my face.

    The pain was still lingering within me. The thought of my child buried me in the pit of loneliness. I called out the grieving to my mother, "But Mumma, what about my child? It would never be able to see Amit’s smile, never be able to feel his smile on its cheeks. It would never know how he smells in Summer. Or the only time he recites a song is when he's happy. It would never know what his hands feel like in the Winter. It would never receive his warmth, his anger, his laughs, his love. It would never know what it's like to have a father like him. What about that, Mumma?" The thumping of my heart raced a bit slower than my thoughts. I traced a finger on my head to check the temperature. The skin on my head felt like a mixture of moist and wetness. I waited for mother to say something, I wanted to hear from her more than my own self. "Oh Meera, my brave girl, how could you forget about this. Amit is with you, everywhere. All you need to do is look. His presence is restrained within those Mogras. In the very fabric of those clothes. In the faded colour of those curtains. He might have left the world, the universe, but he won't leave you. His being, his soul resides in you, my Meera. So, how could you say, the child would never feel his presence. How could you forget, the child has a part of him in itself. All you have to do look and cherish it." The words greased a wave of faith in me. I was crying and smiling, unaware of what to respond to her words. They left a room for hope and mirth to follow it's way back here. With a bewildered look, I asked her, "Mumma, how do you cleverly know what to say? How did the words made me feel so calm? How do you do this?" There was a sound of sign coming from the other side. "Meera, just like the child of yours, you are a part of me. You resemble a small personality alike me. Just like you, l too had lost the love of my life, your father. And look were you and l are." I smiled at the mere innocence of my mother and my face gleamed of comfort. Acknowledging the fact that there was a squint of teary eyes on both sides of phones, we said our goodbyes. I stood up to open the windows. A breeze swift through my face, dropping the report file on floor. While l endured the passing wind as if it told me 'I'm here. I've got you.'

    P. S.:- It's a bit long and stretched out piece. But, I have tried to step out of my comfort zone and put my hands upon something which is a similar texture of Indian literary. It can be assumed as a piece for Mother's Day. Please do leave comments on what you appreciated and what you didn't. I hope y'all like this snippet!

    #snippet, #writing, #mothersday, #mother, #daughter, #grieving, #despair, #loss, #lostlove, #remedy, #healing, #healingbywords, #solace, #mirakeecommunity, #mirakee, #writersnetwork, #pod

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @senden_k @soulfulstirrings @_kabir

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    For gaining love, you need to take risk. For achieving a sight of life, you need to live through barren. For feeling a sense of heat, you need to survive the cold. For holding resilience, you need to defeat the terror within you.

  • blackpenn 44w

    Heaven is a place i can easily reach in a snap, in a blink of an eye, in a heart beat. It is hard to live this life, but it also might be hard to leave this life. But leaving means something different to me now. Leaving means ... there is a chance that I'll be able to meet you again, right?

    The existence of life beyond time is uncertain and a little bit unsure but, what's is there to lose in giving myself a little hope that I'll be able to tell you all the stories that happened after your time? I guess it's not bad to look forward to a reunion where i tell you everything that i wasn't able to tell you. I wish that a waiting room really does exist. A place wherein you wait for your love ones before the train arrives, before letting everything that you've once held go.

    Thinking of those things helps me live without much regret. It helps me to not beat my self up for too long. It helps me move on. However if even a single one of the things i mentioned does not exist, if there is no such thing as life after life, i don't think I'll be able to forgive myself from not being brave enough, for being a coward. But until that time comes, i'll make sure to keep on living to achieve the life that you wanted me to have.

    p. s: I really do hope that this life is not the end for us.

    #inspiration #mirakee #love #grief #grieving #family #father #english #quote #original @mirakee @writersnetwork

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    i hope that this life is not the end for us.

  • drtjeckleburg 44w


    She's somewhere between grief and moving on
    Her mind is a hollow vacant cavern
    So afraid to wallow.
    I don't know how to help her without us both losing ourselves
    I can't bring him back as much I want too
    I miss his quiet presence..
    We all do.
    His memories live on, but they haunt the space that once was their home.


  • jynxielynn85 45w

    There is no word
    For the ones like me.
    No name to justify
    Our right to pain.
    No vows, or wedding band.
    Only a promise upon our left hand.
    We are the widows without rings.
    Love stolen by fate.
    Widowed in heart
    But not in name.
    No expression to define our pain.
    Left alone on our own.
    We are merely the bereaved.

    BleedingInk Poetry
    ©JynxieLynn85 Imagery ©Burak Ulker

    #poems #poet #poetry #wordporn #poetsofinsta #qoutes #writersofig #poetryisnotdead #igpoet #igpoetsociety #creativewriting #poetrynetwork #instapoetry #poetryaccount #poetsofig #writer #instagrampoet #writersnetwork #writersofinstagram #poetsofinstagram #femalewriters #femalepoets #widow #grieving #womenwhowrite #mourning #relatable #death #love #life #poetry #thoughts #diary

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  • explodingsun 47w

    My broken heart could burst with love
    When I remember your wee face.
    Those eyes that shine,
    A smile so divine,
    I'd transcend time and space.

    Those cheeky looks and giggles of joy
    Will light up my heart forever.
    You brought oceans of happiness,
    A love that was pure,
    You truly were our treasure.

    Eleven months wasn't near enough,
    I wish we could have had more.
    Each day was precious,
    Each moment a gift,
    Our Angel, watching over.

  • explodingsun 50w

    I never knew it would hurt so much
    To lose you like I did.
    I thought I'd made my peace with death,
    Who was I trying to kid!

    Gone is a word that's easy to say
    But difficult to accept.
    I analysed every inch of your face,
    In the hope I'd never forget.

    One last time is underrated,
    You believe, somehow, you'll get more.
    I'd give anything to hear you laugh,
    Or complain of being sore.

    God, I miss your beautiful presence,
    Your kindness and gentle way.
    I wish you were here for another while,
    Even just one more day.

  • cocoalea 50w

    Let me love

  • jessejamz 51w

    6 feet between us

    I visited your grave today.
    I can't believe it's almost been a year since you've passed.
    I'll always cherish you though my sorrow will forever last.
    All I can do is cary you in my heart and reminisce fondly on the past.
    I told you I love you as
    tears stream down my face.
    There is a lump in my throat and I wish for your embrace.
    I wept harder and screamed louder than I have ever before.
    The thought of living without you I more than abhor.
    I lie there face down sprawled out in the dirt just to be a little closer.
    You're passing was unexpected and I'll never have closure.
    I try my best but most days it is hard to keep my cool and composer.
    I told you about me getting a car and that I'm trying to live like I'm supposed to.
    I told you that I will become the best version of myself.
    I told you that I will focus on a bright future and my health.
    I told you that I will make you proud.
    I told you one day i will have my own family.
    Though my heart aches because they will never know the sweetness that is Candy.