Dear 15 self I guess you have suffered the most in this short lived life. I'm sorry because I never tried to make you understand what exactly is in my head. I have gone through several changes,met several people and losed too but never tried acknowledging weather you are comfortable with it or not. I remember I cried on the first day of this year and then whole year was passed subsequently. Even several months were nothing but anxiety. I wonder how you faced it all without even a whisper. I never made you sleep for long on the cosy bed and even if I slept all what I dreamt was blood sucking nightmares of dreadful past and mysterious futher. I developed dark circles and scars and turned you ugly. I'm sorry for being so cruel and heartless towards yourself. Tarnished with bundle of miseries you never grieved or perhaps I did not allowed you to do so that no one should consider me fragile. And you accepted everything, every unjust thing I did. I know people don't handle you with care and affection and then blame you saying teenage is curse. But the patience you showed in this whole 365 days were enough for me to say you aren't curse rather you are the most truthful. In the quest of real friends today I ended to myself, I ended to you. Two last months were much peaceful when you dragged me close to my parents to whom I considered as the biggest foe. Yeah I will never forget those pathetic day and bellicostic nights when I was nothing but a pessimist. I'm grateful to you you let me understand my worth and made me believe life is not just this fifteen but many more such fifteen to come that are even more disrupting. Thank you for all the love and trust you showered. I adore you and I promise I will work on you this year so that when you turn 16 next year you become the strongest version of yourself. Happy New year.
My sighs are not sedate They are exclusively sour They levitate They drill deep On the fringes of futile what if's /I walk through this labyrinth in search of solace/ (Uncertainties)
My heart don't struggle To breathe in the ivy December It contrast. And relax. Smoothly Giving space to my epiphanies To fit with this frozen world. /I feel warm/ (Patience)
My body has impaccble Curve lines That no hands could Clutch amibly To dance on roads of roses Followed by firecy thorns. /I enjoy reckless pain. All alone./ (Misfit)
I sit right besides the perfection. The bunch of flaws Flowing through my veins. No tears,no greed To be flawless I glanced towards mirror And perfection embraced me /I find my way back to home/ (Acceptance)
Your muse melt In my ballads. Mine burn high In your prose. From all the words in my diary Few adored me as a crown Most ruined beneath the toes. /My senses are vurnerable to demons within / (Company)
I wonder How the tiny wish To get a miniature plastic plane Has now kindle The ravish desire To be a pilot. /I grow with dreams alive in my eyes./ (Childhood - Adulthood)
My soul speaks Profound treasures With emotions That spills on my lips Imperceptible they remain Nevertheless I thank God For that I start getting s little fainter The world starts getting little brighter. /I taste the subsequent forgiveness buried in the selfless heart/ (Gratitude)
When all the tired eyes fall asleep my eyes were tucked restless; with eulogy of dead love bleeding over those inclement pages.Torrential showers of melancholy obtruded.Hedious scars on my skin and grabbed my habromania that was had preserved for long
The quiescent silence denied from letting me scream aloud and the grief continued to flood through my chocked veins impelling to find its home. A pyromina in my heart to catch the hearth but collapsed with darkness around
I kept chanting hymns of lament and cigars of haunting memories smoking on my drenched Lips. With scuffling feets I rushed towards the door,opened the door I was exiled in. Clock ticked 4a.m. sharp. It was moon incandescent in the Silent Vivid sky starring me
Holding sighs I sat in the corridor, crossed my hands and rubbed my palms around my arms. I saw moon turning twice;one in the swriling sky that induced caim to my coward nerves and the second one in the tile next to my feet crawling upward to embrace me with hopes. Swiftly the moonlight weeped trickled whiskey from my eyes. Moon uttered, Tell me about your bellicostic nights; show me your scars that you have been disguising beneath the tacenda. Tell me what height you have fallen from. Disclose your flaws for which the world is humiliating you. I don't fear to hold you cordolium. Because I possess it too. I too have dolent scars. I too don't remain noilceur every night. I too shiver and cry and hide myself in the dark.
I unveiled my bruises and caressed it with pleasure I never felt before.With tender faith in my eyes I dragged myself towards the roof. It was the ravishing sky above me . The horizon with three different hues followed by cosy fog that made me shiver. Not with fear but with childish curiosity. Bottom of the sky was drapped with roseate as if she kissed the sky with her red stained lips. A inch higher was a broad strip of white blowing newly born peace into my blood which was engulfed with anguish. The next was blooming blue earning a gleam of mauve sereni.
I glanced for long and long and flies like the symphony of my favourite song. The sky made me believe joy remain inseperable with the scinticlla of blue that withered with the dancing tears. The Milky moon smiled at me and keep on disappearing with the golden bunch of sunshine cuddling and strengthening me like a Anam Cara. The cigars away and at 6a.m. I went brewing a coffee of happiness and moving on in this busy life with a new enthusiasm.
Habromania : Delusion of happiness Caim: an invisible circle of protection, drawn around the body the hand, that reminds you that you are safe and loved even in the darkest time Anam Cara: a person with whom you can share your deepest thought feeling Leas: ray of light
We are traitors One-night couple, just a raw deal, Having hots for each other, kinda cupboard love, A night in the dark love nest, In the altogether, charged, Babe magnet, with browny bedroom eyes, Netflix and Chill? Oh yeah! We bumped uglies. Of course, tomorrow is a bit of sorrow. No compromise, no regrets. It's an art of letting go.