#letters

1355 posts
  • beingpoetic17 1d

    When I die

    Bury me
    With those dried roses in my diary
    And with those letters of love that never came
    Bury me
    With all the traces that I ever loved
    For I want to be buried
    With my pain
    ©harry1720

  • a_gentilischi 2d

    (This in the PoV of a professionally successful actress)




    HERE'S A GLIMPSE OF MY FAN MAIL.
    HOPE YOU ENJOY.


    I COULD RECITE THE ONES BY THE WOMEN WITH CLOSED EYES.

    "You're so beautiful, a goddess on earth. Not a single blemish on that golden skin. I wish I could be like you."
    .
    THAT'S WHAT THE GIRLS SAY. TO THEM MY FACE HAS NEVER SEEN A PIMPLE OR A BLACK HEAD. IN OTHER WORDS, MY FACE IS PLASTIC TO THEM.
    DON'T FRET LIKE THAT HONEY, APPLY THE FOUNDATION AN INCH THICK, AND MAYBE SKIP A MEAL OR TWO SO YOUR STOMACH WON'T SHOW, AND YOU'LL LOOK THE SAME.
    DON'T LOOK AT MY THIGHS AND MARVEL THE LACK OF STRECH MARKS, THEY'RE ALL AIRBRUSHED IN TO PERFECTION.

    THE MEN ARE WORSE, YOU KNOW.

    "The way you walk, it's like you're a walking wet dream. I can't get enough of you. Any man who scores you is a lucky man, indeed."
    .
    WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THE WAY I WALK? I DON'T WALK LIKE A WOMAN, I WALK LIKE AN ACROBAT IN SKY HIGH LOUBOUTIN STILTS. AND IF THAT'S WHAT YOU LIKE, I'M SORRY FOR YOU.
    THIS BODY ISN'T A PRIZE TO WIN, THIS IS MY PRISON . I'M CAGED BY YOUR ENDLESS EXPECTATIONS. I WISH I KNEW HOW TO BREAK FREE OF THEM, BUT IF I DID, YOU WOULDN'T BE WRITING THIS TO ME.

    AND MOST HEARTBREAKING OF ALL...

    "You're an angel, aren't you? Mummy asked who I wanted to be when I grew up, and I said I wanted to be beautiful like you, so everyone will like me"
    .
    OH SWEETHEART, NO. IT DOESN'T WORK LIKE THAT. I'M JUST LIKE YOUR MUMMY. (WELL, LET'S BE HONEST, SHE'S LIVING A BETTER LIFE THAN ME, CONTRARY TO WHAT YOU TWO THINK). YOU DON'T WANT TO BE ME, DARLING. IT'S ALL GOOD FUN FOR A WHILE, BUT THEN YOU REALISE HOW EMPTY IT ALL IS, BUT IT'S TOO LATE AND THERE'S NO WAY OUT.


    AND THAT'S HOW IT GOES.
    THE ACTRESS WHO DAZZLES YOUR TV SCREEN, AND SMILES AT YOU FROM BILLBOARDS…YES, THIS IS ME. ALONE AT A PLACE I'LL CALL HOME FOR A MONTH, WITH NO ONE TO LOVE, BUT THE STRANGERS IN ENVELOPES.

    IT'S NOT ENOUGH, THOUGH. IT'S SO COLD.

    MAYBE I SHOULD JUST BURN ALL THE FAN MAIL.

    IT MIGHT BE WARM ENOUGH THEN.


    .
    2021.03.03
    Written rights : ©a_gentilischi
    PC:Pinterest

    #letters #fanmail #pod
    #mirakee #writersnetwork
    @mirakee @writersnetwork
    #thoughts #life #actress #stardom

    Read More

    READING FAN MAIL

    .





    ©a_gentilischi

  • krystallos 1w

    I broke someone's heart again because I couldn't let myself love. Here's my 3 am ramblings.
    And for what it's worth, I'm sorry.
















    #unsaid #writersblock #love #fear #insecurities #regret #words #imsorry #midnighthoughts #emotions #cansomeoneteachmetolove? #feelings #instagramwriter #midnight #poem #poetry #poet
    #letters #unsentletters

    Read More

    I look back and regret my choices,
    Every action, every decision.

    Your love was true,
    But I was too afraid to hold you,
    Too afraid to feel or even try.

    My fear, my insecurities
    Stole you from me.

    When I reached for you,
    All that was left was your silhouette.
    Your silhouette reminding me of all the
    Words left unsaid...


    ©krystallos

  • we_elude 1w

    To : Barometer


    Hola Barometer !!!

    What a successful prediction you made for my departure......perfectly fitting the social barometers of timings too

    Indeed you are modernized as humans of twenty first century .... predicting the Nature ( every form of nature) ....accordingly to the nature of the one operating you .... and this time you predicted my last fall.

    But I won't make it difficult for you....I will honestly tell you about my nature that you are trying to predict . I am birthed as a miniature ....formed from vastness (air) and depth(water). Little by little I add up to be bigger combing with other invisible parts .
    Soon I reached my vantage point.

    You predict "low pressure" for my fall
    Whilst I get heavier of my depth so I fall
    Maybe humans are choosing their own barometers....... for the same purposes still leaving them all messed up ...

    I fell so many time .....sometime little less ... sometime little more ...sometime as a curse other time as a blessing ..... sometime I blocked other time I combined.....what a journey I had this winter !!

    But now final pieces of that initial miniature is left .....I will lose my vastness soon ....
    And once again I will fit in to your prediction. I will fall gracefully for my final fall......

    Wait a minute !!

    Is 'Nature' really this predictable ?
    Your falling pressure is still in dilemma for my constant cyclic creation and fall.

    So all this time was your prediction trying to fit in my very own barometer ?

    On a happier note :
    See you ....for the prediction of my subtle depth in upcoming spring...soon.... ✨

    From : The last snowfall of winter


    Thanks for reading !!!


    All letters at -------> #letteread

    #Lfsfc @writersbay #mirakee #writersnetwork #ceesreposts @fromwitchpen #letteread #fadingwinters #letters

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    Intellect and emotion both integrated together as 'snow'
    Drenching the cold
    For the final aglow.......
    ©we_elude

  • a_gentilischi 2w

    This is the fifth out of seven letters. This is a continuation of the first three letters. You can read them at #wbltsagent

    In this letter I refer to the 'Imaginary Prisons', which is a series of art prints by Venetian artist Giovanni Battista Piranesi. I've included an image of the first print for those who are curious in #fifthletterinfo

    This is long and I'm not sure if it makes sense, but yeah, did my best. ��


    Happy reading ��

    @writersbay many thanks for hosting this fantastic challenge. It's been a wonderful experience ������

    2021.02.19
    Written rights : ©a_gentilischi

    Written rights : ©a_gentilischi

    #ltnothumansc #letters
    #mirakee #writersnetwork #writersbay
    @writersnetwork @writersbay
    #letter #wbltsagent #confessions
    #summer #oblivion #prison #change

    Read More

    -The fifth letter, found in an open prison cell-

    .
    To Oblivion,

    Some letters don't deserve sweet endearments. I have called you 'dear', have named you 'beloved' and I have declared you as a 'treasure'.

    But never have I addressed you as wholly mine.

    Today, I call you mine, in every sense of the word, because it is the day I have decided to be yours.
    Or rather, be you.
    Well, I guess those are just semantics.

    Thus, I name you Oblivion.
    My Oblivion, or your Oblivion?

    I'm beginning to understand that they are the same thing.
    You are no longer the ethereal stranger of a winter night, for when I show you a piece of my soul, you show me a piece of your own, as well.

    One day, I will find out who you are.
    Not yet, though. Right now, I'm busy tasting Oblivion.

    Here's the thing.
    Change is HARD.

    I never understood how difficult a process, metamorphosis was.

    Never did I consider the sheer amount of pain that Winter goes through in order to become Spring.

    I used to think stagnation was the only kind of prison.
    But not all prisons are blessed with the safety of four walls and a barred window.

    Change is the most ruthless jailer, for he wields Oblivion, instead of Chains.

    When you are in the prison of Oblivion and Change, you begin to crave the manacles, because they will keep you tethered. The bite of cold iron will cut your wrists, but what is a little blood, compared to the systematic break down of the life you built?

    We humans hold on to things so tightly, with no consideration to whether those things are good or bad for us. Maybe that's the only thing we know.

    And now, you've broken me out of one prison, and put me in another.

    I feel as if I'm a wanderer in Piranesi's Imaginary Prisons.
    There is no sense of time or direction. I'm simply drunk on vertigo.
    No warmth, no cold.
    The only thing I can feel is me, tearing down parts of my soul, opening doors, letting fresh air in to the musty rooms.

    The wide hallways echo with the cries of ghosts. They are the remnants of 'what had been's and 'what would have been's. Perhaps my own ghosts are here. Maybe your ones as well.

    But all prisons do have an ending, and that suggests that there is another beginning as well.

    After all, the end of an end is another beginning.

    With hope,
    A wanderer in search of beginnings.

    .
    ©a_gentilischi

  • _sa_ba_ 2w

    I could never write cheesy little letters of appreciation.
    I drifted away in this one too.
    This is not exactly a letter. More like my journey here.
    .
    .
    "Whether you be a pioneer writer or an experienced wordsmith, Mirakee supports everyone with a pen and a paper."
    .
    .
    .
    A big thank you to the creators, admins, sheriff and moderators of Mirakee.
    Thank you Writersnetwork for that big warm welcome♡
    Thank you Mirakee for providing a new and interesting challenge day after day♡
    Thank you Writersbay for introducing variety of writing promps to keep us busy and also, thank you for always supporting and commenting on every post in your reach♡
    Thank you @readers_novella @mirakeeassistant @_lovenotes_from_carolyn and many others for supporting and encouraging new writers and keeping this platform safe and clean for every age♡


    #Ltcmc
    #ceesreposts
    #letters
    #mirakee

    Read More

    To
    The Mirakee Team
    19-02-2021


    Back in early 2017, I was scrolling through Playstore, not sure about which app I wished to try. I was just searching for something that would distract me from daily struggles. A game, a quiz, a social app, anything. There I came across Mirakee. After reading about it, a writing app seemed perfect to vent out some mixed feelings.

    I installed it, wrote something and posted. Just a few minutes had passed when I recieved a like and Writersnetwork commented ' Welcome to Mirakee'. As I do not have many people to call as friends, this small gesture did feel good. Thank you Writersnetwork!

    People here were so welcoming and the app's design and daily prompts were inviting me to write more and more. As I didn't own a phone back then, everyday, at 9 am, I used to note down the prompt and write all day. I waited for my father to come home so I could post all those things I had penned. Those some minutes spent here felt like heaven. I spent half of my phone time here, reading, writing, commenting and reposting. It was very much fun. At the same time, my writing skills improved too and so did my English test marks.

    I informed some of my friends about this app. Sadly, no one, except my cousin was interested. I made many friends here and we always supported each other but I had no idea that all this excitement will soon come to an end. I intended to keep my writeups anonymous but after some time some friends of mine came to know about my account and started reading. I didn't like this. I felt insecure. The freedom, to write just anything, was snatched from me. I screenshotted a few of my best writeups and with a heavy heart, deleted that account to start a fresh journey at a long known place.

    But as is a case of almost every writer, I lost my motivation some months back. It has still not returned. Everyday I wait for daily challenges by Mirakee & Writersbay and I push myself really hard to write something. But all in vain. I don't think this motivation is coming back anytime soon. But I'll always be ready in case it decides to surprise me. I'll read new posts daily and who knows, maybe a post, a comment or even a prompt will rekindle that lost flame? Wish me luck.

    To the creators, I would like to say that...
    There are many more writing apps that, maybe, provide better features than Mirakee. I also tried a few. But these platforms lack support and encouragement. Also, some have so many challenges going on that they leave you confused which one will be the best to participate in. Their community is so huge, you will get lost in the crowd and in the process of gaining recognition, lose yourself. They may provide better backgrounds, better fonts, but the price is a few genuine readers. A writer writes for the world so that it can read, understand and learn from his/her experiences. But with such small reach, writing becomes dull. That is where Mirakee stands out in a herd of writing apps. Whether you be a pioneer writer or an experienced wordsmith, this community supports everyone with a pen and a paper.

    I would call Mirakee a savior. I have no idea how many lives this app has saved. Maybe someone was ready to enter a world beyond life and death but all they actually needed was someone or someplace to express themselves, to unload that heavy burden from their hearts. And I believe Mirakee was there with them in those tough times as it has always been with me. Mirakee entered my life when I was going through a tough phase. It holds a special place in my heart and therefore, even after trying, I could never write anywhere else. People made best friends here, some found the love of their lives and for some this has been a place beyond worldy affairs. You never know how many lives it has changed. You will never know. But it surely has made a difference.

    In Mirakeeland, I've always recieved so much love and care. Mirakee is more like a home to me than just a writing app. Thank you Mirakee, for never judging or stopping me to express my emotions. I can't thank you enough for letting me be myself.

    A big thank you to the creators, admins, sheriff and moderators of Mirakee.
    Thank you @writersnetwork for that big warm welcome♡
    Thank you @Mirakee for providing new and interesting challenges day after day♡
    Thank you @writersbay for introducing variety of writing prompts to keep us busy and also, thank you for always supporting and commenting on every post in your reach♡
    Thank you @readers_novella @mirakeeassistant @_lovenotes_from_carolyn and many others for supporting and encouraging new writers and keeping this platform safe and clean for every age♡

    Keep writing. Keep shining. Keep growing.

    With love,
    ©_sa_ba_
    A Mirakean

  • a_gentilischi 2w

    Since seven letters are going to be written, I decided to write them as a continuous series. So give your thoughts on this. ��
    And, it's best if the first two letters are read beforehand. You can find them under #wbltsagent
    Happy reading ��

    Much love out to @writersbay for this amazing challenge that pushes our limits. ������



    2021.02.17
    Written rights : ©a_gentilischi

    Written rights : ©a_gentilischi

    #Ltseasonc #letters
    #mirakee #writersnetwork #writersbay
    @writersnetwork @writersbay
    #letter #wbltsagent #confessions
    #summer #spring #winter

    Read More

    -The third letter, left where spring meets summer-

    .
    Treasured Summer,

    Can I call you Summer?
    You never told me your name, and well, this is what I've been calling you in my head. I hope you don't mind.

    At first it was because, when we met on that winter night, you looked so out of place. Only later did I realise that you weren't wearing any winter gear, even though it was freezing. I'm still not sure if you were a hallucination of an angel.

    Now I call you Summer, because you are MY summer.
    You're the inexorable force that drives my winter in to Spring, then, right in to your open arms.

    My dearest, you are the breeze that gave wings to my last letter.
    You are the sun that kisses the snow covered mountain tops, to make them lush and green.
    You chase away the barrenness that is the mistress of the dark cold.

    You, Summer, are the essence that I want to drown in, till every pore of my frostbitten body is suffused with the warmth of hope, till my body and soul are overflowing with it.

    But first I have to reach you.

    You reached out to me that first time. A child of summer, full of life, what were you doing crying on a winter night? Why did you taint yourself with the blizzards of vitriolic hatred?

    Was it for me?

    Winter has barely ended for me. But Spring is coming, I know it is. I can feel it in the way my heartbeat quickens, like the earth awakening from the slumber. My thoughts are stirring tentatively, like bulbs of daffodils, shivering in anticipation, exhilarated, and on the cusp of blooming.

    Darling, I know that summer doesn't last forever, but will you wait for me?

    Wait till the last traces of frost melt and I grow back sprigs of fresh leaves. Don't leave me until I'm heavy with blossom, a vision out of the riverbanks that Monet painted.

    Stay until my spring transcends in to the glorious summer of your embrace.

    My heart will meet yours at the place where Spring meets Summer.

    With love,
    Your Winter that is turning in to Spring

    .
    ©a_gentilischi

  • a_gentilischi 2w

    Since seven letters are going to be written, I decided to write them as a continuous series. So give your thoughts on this. ��
    And, it's best if the first letter is read beforehand. You can find it under #wbltsagent
    Happy reading ��

    And how can I not mention the creators of this fantastic challenge? Many thanks out to @writersbay . You guys rock. ������



    2021.02.16
    Written rights : ©a_gentilischi

    #Ltmusec #letters #forgiveness #pod
    #mirakee #writersnetwork #writersbay
    @writersnetwork @writersbay
    #letter #wbltsagent #confessions

    Read More

    -The second letter, floated in a summer wind-

    .
    Beloved Muse,

    It's me again. We met on a cold winter night in the park, remember? We both cried that night, but for different reasons.
    I hope you got my previous letter. I left it on the park bench, where we first met.

    I've been thinking about what you said that night.

    I've been holding on to your words.
    Let me be clear.
    I've been holding on to YOU.

    You told me not to get used to the cold. But, to do that, I need to remember the warmth first.

    Yet, no matter how hard I try, I can't bring it to my mind… Can't seem to picture a time when I wasn't shivering in the storm of an unforgiving world that was frozen.

    My heart was broken, but I made it whole. I closed those cracks, not with tissues and vessels of hope, but with shards of ice. Because that was all I had, then. Those jagged pieces are the pain and desolation of river Styx, solidified in to black onyx and forced it to the crevices of my gaping heart.

    Of course, I tried to forgive.

    But it didn't work out for me in the ways that the others promised it would. I did everything they said. I read the manual from beginning to end, and I didn't skip the steps. Where did I go wrong? Was it me or them?

    From what I know, forgiveness is not a game of hopscotch played on haphazard squares of a bleeding heart. It has no rhyme or reason to its flow.

    Maybe there's no right way to forgive.

    Those self-help books told me nothing worthwhile.
    "Forgive and forget", it's easy for them to say, when I'm the one left stranded in the ashes of the aftermath.

    But, then I met you.

    One whisper from you was worth more than a dozen "How to forgive and start living" books.

    You didn't tell me to forget.
    Your tears were warm, and they spoke of acceptance, as your shaking hands clutched mine.

    Now, I feel the pieces of my heart shifting.

    The ice is melting, leaking fat drops of black ink, that splash like scars across the white paper. My heart is still broken, but there is a beauty to these scars, for they sing of cerulean oceans and freedom.
    I haven't felt this way in a long time.

    Thank you for being my muse.

    Last night I wrote of warm summer winds.
    Now I send this letter on the tendrils of its wake.

    With love,
    A broken hearted stranger who has begun to feel the warmth


    .
    ©a_gentilischi

  • a_gentilischi 2w

    Many thanks out to @writersbay for this delightful challenge.
    ������


    2021.02. 15
    Written rights : ©a_gentilischi

    #Ltstrangerc #letters
    #mirakee #writersnetwork #writersbay
    @writersnetwork @writersbay
    #letter #wbltsagent #confessions

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    -The first letter, which was left on a park bench-

    .
    Dear Stranger,

    I don't know if you remember me. But I remember you so very clearly.

    We met a few days ago, in the park. Right now, I'm looking at the bench where we sat together, from my apartment's balcony, as I write.
    It's snowing again tonight. Not as much as the day we met though.
    But still, I'm used to the cold.

    You asked me how I could stand the cold. No one has ever asked me that before. Why was it that the most important question of my life was shown to me by a mere stranger? It terrified me, so I gave a non committal answer, but you were persistent.
    And, so you made me ponder one of the biggest questions of my life that night.

    The truth is, I couldn't bring myself to talk to you. It was hard enough to look straight in your eyes that treasured kindness. I was a parched desert, to your oasis.
    You were so beautiful.

    The snowflakes that caught on the dark strands of your hair, were like a thousand stars on a moonless night. You were a queen, crowned in starlight. Your cheeks were painted crimson from the cold, and I couldn't keep my eyes off you, no matter how hard I tried.
    And your eyes…they were a deep brown, and they held such secrets in their depths. To look in to them was to see earth embracing creation.

    You looked as if you knew me, the real ME. Not this pathetic effigy that I've showcased for public consumption. Because that's all that people know how to do…consume.
    But you were different.

    "How do you stand the cold?"

    Breathless silence. Then, unbidden, the answer tripped out of my freezing lips.
    "You get used to it after a while"

    That was when you started to cry, hot tears running down your cheeks. And then, I was crying too.
    You touched my hands, and your warmth was like a brand of fire upon my palms.

    "Never get used to the cold". That was your fervent whisper, as you walked away. It is echoing through me, even now.

    Who are you?
    I don't even know an address to send this letter over to, so I'm going to leave it on the bench we sat.

    I want to see you again. I want you to ask me your questions, one at a time. I promise I won't flinch from your eyes next time.

    With love,
    The stranger who cried next to you, on a winter night.


    .
    ©a_gentilischi

  • yashvibansal 2w

    Let us love death
    But romance life

    Let us write letters to death
    But kiss life.

    Let us murmur sweet nothings to death
    But embrace life

    Cause darling, death is faithful
    And life divine.
    COPYRIGHT YASHVI BANSAL
    28 November 2020


    I know, I know. Valentines Day was yesterday. My not-so-punctual nature notwithstanding, here's presenting a piece of poetry I wrote when I had just come through a very dark part of my life. I decided to share in the month of love for it was written when I was grappling with both relief and despair, with fear and hope, with anxiety and thankfulness.I sincerely hope that you love it.��


    Image credit to the rightful owner. I picked it up from Google. If you have any idea who this image belongs to, please tell me. I will give due credit.

    #life #death #love #romance #soul #faithful #spirituality #divine #darling #kiss #write #letters #handwritten #mirakee #writersnetwork

    Read More

    Loving Life and Death

    (Read Caption)
    ©yashvibansal

  • jan_balan 2w

    Unheard

    Backspace in keyboard,
    Drafted mails in mailbox,
    Letters not posted,
    Explains the unexplained words

    - Love unsaid
    ©jan_balan

  • kichu_parameswaran 4w

    പ്രിയപ്പെട്ട എനിക്ക്,

    ഞാൻ എഴുതുന്നത്.. താനിതെവിടെയാടോ ? ഒരു വിവരവും ഇല്ലല്ലോ ? എന്തൊരു പോക്കാ ഇത് ഏഹ് !! ഊണുമില്ല ഉറക്കവുമില്ല സദാ എന്തൊക്കെയോ ആലോചിച്ചിരിക്കന്നെ.. ഹ്മ്മ് !!

    ആലോചനകളൊക്കെ നല്ലതു തന്നെ താൻ ചുറ്റും നടക്കുന്നത് വല്ലതും അറിയുന്നുണ്ടോ ? ആകെ ഒരു മരവിപ്പല്ലേ തനിക്ക്.. മരങ്ങൾ പോലും തണുത്ത വിറച്ചു ഇലകൾ കൊഴിച്ചു തുടങ്ങി നിനക്കൊന്നുമറിയുന്നില്ലല്ലേ ?? ആളാകെ മാറി പോയിരിക്കുന്നു.. മുഖത്തെ കുട്ടിത്തമൊക്കെ എങ്ങോപോയിരിക്കുന്നു.. തിരിച്ചറിയാൻ തന്നെ ഒരിത്തിരി സമയമെടുത്തു... ചുറ്റും ചുരുട്ടിയെറിഞ്ഞ കടലാസുകളും ആഷ്ട്രെ നിറഞ്ഞിരിക്കുന്ന ബ്ലാക്കിൻ്റെ കുറ്റികളും... എന്തിനോ ജീവൻ കൊടുക്കാൻ ശ്രമിച്ചിരുന്നു എന്ന് വ്യക്തം..

    കാത്തിരിക്കുന്നവർക്ക് അറിയുമോ ഇങ്ങനൊരാൾ ഇവിടെ ഉണ്ടെന്ന്.. ഉണ്ടാവാം അതല്ലാതെ കണ്ണടച്ച് ഇങ്ങനെ ഇരുട്ടിൽ തപ്പില്ലല്ലോ.. !! സ്വയമുരുകി നീ ഇല്ലാതെയാവുന്ന നാളിലെങ്കിലും ഒന്ന് തിരിച്ചറിയുമാരിക്കും തന്നെയും അത്രമേൽ സ്നേഹിച്ചൊരാൾ ഉണ്ടായിരുന്നുവെന്ന്.. എന്ത് കാര്യം !? ഒരിറ്റ് കണ്ണീർ .. പിന്നെ കുറേ നിലതെറ്റി ഒഴുകിയ വാക്കുകളും.. അതും ഓർമ്മകൾ മായ്ക്കാൻ മറ്റൊന്ന് വരുന്നത് വരെ..

    #malsaram #letters #malayalam

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    എന്തിനെന്നില്ലാതെ നീ പ്രണയിക്കുക.. പൂക്കുക.. നിൻ്റെ ഗന്ധം പരത്തുക.. പിന്നെയെന്നോ കൊഴിഞ്ഞു പോവുക.. ഇനിയും പൂക്കണം മിനിയും നിൻ്റെ ഗന്ധം പരക്കണം മറ്റാരെ പ്രണയിക്കുന്നതിനേക്കാൾ നീ നിന്നെ സ്നേഹിക്കണം..

    നോവുകൾ ഇശലുകളായി പൊഴിയട്ടെ.. നൊമ്പരങ്ങളും മോഹങ്ങളും നീ കുറിക്ക നിനക്കായ് കാത്തിരിപ്പുണ്ടാമൊരാൾ.. നിശാനക്ഷ്ത്രങ്ങളെ പോലെ എന്നും നിന്നെ പിന്തുടരുന്നൊരാൾ.. നിലതെറ്റിയോഴുകുമ്പോഴും നീ നീയാരിക്കുക.. പ്രയാസമാണെന്ന് അറിയാമെങ്കിലും ശ്രമിക്കുക..

    ഉള്ളു നീറി പുകയുമ്പോഴും ചിരിക്കുക.. നിൻ്റെ പുഞ്ചിരിയിൽ പൂത്ത വസന്തത്തിന് കഴിഞ്ഞ കാലത്തെ ഓർമ്മകളെ വളമാക്കുക.. ചുറ്റുമുള്ള മുഖങ്ങളിൽ നീ പൊയ്ച്ചിരികൾ കണ്ടേക്കാം.. നിന്നെ ഭ്രാന്തെനെന്ന് മുദ്രകുത്തിയേക്കാം.. കുശുംബാണവർക്ക് !!

    നിൻ്റെ നിലക്കാതെ പ്രണയത്തോട്..

    തേടുക നീ നിന്നെ തന്നെ അതിലൂടെ മാത്രമേ നിൻ്റെ പ്രണയത്തെ കണ്ടെത്താനാവൂ..

    സസ്നേഹം,
    ഞാൻ

    ©kichu_parameswaran

  • bankachaand 4w

    All the letters, not sent to you,
    become a bleeding wound
    in my daily diary..

  • thedebonairsingh 4w

    सोंच रहा हूँ ख़त लिखने को
    लेकिन क्या पैग़ाम लिखूं
    तुम बिन काटी रात लिखूं
    या साथ गुज़ारी शाम लिखूं

    इश्क़ स्याह से लिख दूँ इसको
    या दिल को तेरे नाम लिखूं
    ख़्वाव मैं सारे लिखूं इसमें
    ख़ुद को तेरे नाम लिखूं

    पुष्प चमन के रख दूँ इसमें
    या इश्क़ भरा पैग़ाम लिखूं
    कंटक सारे रख लू मैं
    कुसुम तुम्हारे नाम लिखूं

    सोंच रहा हूँ ख़त लिखने की
    लेकिन क्या पैग़ाम लिखूं........
    ©thedebonairsingh

  • a_gentilischi 4w

    Oh my goodness, a POD? It was the last thing I expected today ❤️��❤️
    Thank you so much @mirakee @writersnetwork
    And huge thanks and love out to all the amazing friends I've met here����
    ________________________________________________



    .
    Where do all the unsent messages go
    When they are stranded on the shores
    Of 'drafts' and 'scheduled', awaiting in dread
    For the inevitable journey to the lonesome 'bin'
    ?
    Where do all the regretfully erased words go
    Maimed and disfigured Times New Roman
    Fading in the silent void of utter obscurity
    As the well worn backspace button strikes
    ?
    Where do all those hopeless love letters go
    When their recipients are ravaged, rotting corpses
    On a dark battlefield, continents and seas away
    So that the stamped dusty envelopes are useless
    ?
    Where do my own pen's pathetic poems go
    The ones that I write at midnight in tears
    That I crumple, then thoughtlessly sentence
    To confines of the unemptied waste paper bucket
    ?
    Where do the faded, decade old diaries go
    When their beloved authors are no more
    And there's no one left that cares enough
    To tend to those flickering memories
    ?
    Maybe, just maybe there's a special place
    A hallowed heaven for the lost, a warm abode
    The sanctuary the words desired and were promised
    But which they never tasted, in real life
    .
    Or maybe it's much simpler and crueler
    Maybe they're at a much closer place
    Deprived of rest, peace and eternal grace
    Maybe they're still bleeding ink and pain
    .
    Maybe they're still lodged, deep inside
    The cracks of the shattered beating hearts
    .
    Is that why it hurts so much
    ?
    ?
    ?




    2021.02.04
    Written rights : ©a_gentilischi
    PC : Pinterest


    #bksc #pod
    #mirakee #writersnetwork #writersbay
    @mirakee @writersnetwork
    @writersbay
    #words #thoughts #life #love
    #death #letters #wnreagent

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    Lost Words

    .
    ©a_gentilischi

  • driftersoul 5w

    All I wanted was to be understood
    And yes you were there...
    But you were a blank wall
    On which I threw stones.
    You took the hit, yes-
    But it never left a mark.

    -from my unwritten letters to you

  • anush18 6w

    //������������ ������������- �������� 3//

    And today when I woke up too late, the very first thought that crossed my mind was of yours. You see even the strongest people have their weak points, so what makes them strong? Their dedication in their good days. What makes me strong is that no matter what happens, I have someone to rely upon. I used to believe that this world is paradise but now I know you're that world for me. How dumb I was. I still am. That feeling of being in heaven is just with you, so should I conclude that you're that world for me? No, I won't. I know we are losing our minds. This is maybe the last letter I'm writing to you and then I'll try to Stop Living In the Past. Memories are overrated. We are just afraid of accepting the present.

    Dear Lucius,
    You see, even when I was sinking, I called out your name. You don't have to change yourself for anyone or anything. I love the way you are. Words can be filtered as well but behavior? They can't be filtered. I can stop living in the past but maybe I can't stop loving you but still I'll look for the reasons which will be suffice to hate you but It's hard, you know. How to evolve hatred for you when I am so in love with your imperfections? So many if's and but's, right?

    Sometimes I think about this phrase, "�������� ������ �������������� ������ �������� ������, �������� ������ ������, ������ ����������������"
    Ahh, my mind. I almost lost my mind yesterday night when I was thinking about this one line. What If I Got you but I didn't deserve you? What If I deserved you but I didn't get you? You think I'm an Angel? In my bad days, my sky is grey and the air I breathe is smoky, the shades I paint are blue. I seek bliss but what I get is pissed off. I put my self through hell, I am just a demon. I hope I'll find peace sooner. My monsters will calm down. I don't know if I will be with you anymore but I do know one thing that I'll be forgetting you sooner. I don't want to find reasons to forgive you. I wanna forget you for no reasons. I don't want reasons to forget you. I know If I will be asking reasons, I'll be remembering you everytime.

    We are just a tragedy, I guess. This combination perfectly suits us: ������ ���������� ������ �������� �������� ����'���� �������� �������� ������ ���� ���������� ������ �������� �������� ����'���� �������� ��������. We are like an animal when with each other. We are like night jasmine flowers, our life span is shorter but adorable. I told you that I wanted a mass grave for Night Jasmines we used to rip apart. We were obsidians for each other, we used to remove our negativity. I have been craving for your finger tips, I miss your tight hugs you used to give me at the end of the day. Days that were dark & gloomy. I knew I was never the right one for you but I don't know who is that right one for me except you. I remember those days when you used to hide in my lap seeking rest and calmness after a tiring day. I miss those days! Do you? You do a lot, but you never show. We can never totally be forgotten, we can be lost and found. The essence of our soul remains in the songs we suggested, in the mugs we gifted, in the books we read, in the movies we watched. And so we'll never die. You know that it was a tough time and I know that I've been avoiding every single thing that is attached to you or your memories but it's still hard. I still remember the way your warm fingers soothed my frozen ones. I still remember the way you secretly captured my smiling picture and kept in your safe. I still remember the way you used to ask me for my palm to rest on your cheeks. I fuckin remember every littlest of things we did together and apart. This letter is written for burning it later. I won't be sending you this because this is just an attempt to forget you after 3 years of our separation.

    I miss us. We didn't fight for the last time. I wish I knew that it's the end. I wish I gave you a back bump so that you run after me and do the same to me. I wish our end was not silent. I wish our end was ENDLESS.

    YOURS MARTHA!
    --------------------------------------------------------------------:-
    #AgonizingJanuary #letters #broken #wtf
    @writersnetwork @ikigaii @starrdust @zilch__
    @kin_jo #lettersby18

    I'm trying to write this from 22nd and today is the day I finally finished it! ��
    (It was a forced writing, in short) ��

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    .

  • driftersoul 7w

    Hey...
    it’s okay if you feel like you are not enough today
    Hey...
    Its okay if you can’t seem to find some light today
    And hey...
    Its also okay if it has been so for some days now
    You know you aren’t quitting
    You know you are going to wake up and give all of this another try tomorrow
    You know that
    And you trust yourself to wake up...

    For now
    That’s enough.

    There’s no race going on here.

    -words from a letter lost on it’s way

  • mighty_are_the_fallen 7w

    The Box

    I found a box the other day,
    Shoved full of memories,
    Scars I thought where healed.
    Tinny notes in the length of books.
    Stories of my life I can't remember.
    This box sits alone,
    Waiting to be opened,
    It's contents spilled like bile,
    A bad thought on the mind too long.
    I almost don't want to see,
    All the things I wrote,
    Maybe these are the notes,
    The ones I should have wrote.
    Maybe I'll read them to you one day.
    When we finally decay.
    ©mighty_are_the_fallen

  • musafirbysoul 8w

    You

    When you reached the stage of
    "Huh! It's your loss"
    You officially moved on from all the shit in your life
    ©musafirbysoul