Mirakee
I didn't know all of my words
were as empty
as my bottle of vodka.
lone_soul_
Don't come here searching for light and hope
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lone_soul_
13w
-
lone_soul_
13w
One soul
and one heart
is not enough to
contain all
of this sorrow.. -
lone_soul_
13w
I don't know
how to leave behind
all of these lingering feelings
that still dwell
from within.. -
lone_soul_
13w
Perhaps I am
just a window
for everyone to see through,
to lift me up for their own vanity
only to put me down when
the world grows dark... -
I ask you if you are okay
I can see the pain
You hide in your eyes
But all you say is "I'm fine"
But the truth is
I know you are not fine
Why can't you tell me
What is wrong
I can't stand watching you hurt
And feeling helpless because
I can't fucking help you
And stop trying to push me away
I want to be able to help you
But if you keep pushing
Then I can't help you
So let's try this again
Are you okay? -
I've been crying alot lately
my eyes are tired
and swollen
and puffy
and red.
He got mad
because I messed up again...
no surprise there
he got even more mad when I started to cry
but who cares
my mind is so fuckked up anyway
does it really matter if anyone notices
how lost I am? -
lone_soul_
13w
Spending my mornings crying
staring into the icy
heart of the bottle... -
my life is surrounded by happy people
I try to have good days
I try to be happy
but trying to be happy
only makes me tired
why do I even try... -
lone_soul_
13w
not naming names,
100 proof in my veins.
I cant be the same
when I'm drinking again
didn't know I was nostalgic
for self-reckless sadness
and if I go,
well, wouldn't that be tragic. -
When I'm finally gonna get lil peace in my life
One of my goodfrnd is shattered and broken
And one is leaving
And that broke me again....
-
Haiku
A Rose, black or white
Stands for purity and love
In garden or books
©spicy_sugar -
Charles Bukowski
They say Bukowski is overrated, that anyone can become a poet when drunk. But I wouldn't know, would I? I am neither a poet nor a drunk. But, one thing I know for sure is, Bukowski poetry is one of my many muses
-
My friend laughed at me, saying
"why would you brag about shots when you don't even drink?!"
And I just thought of all the pain I have to numb but don't want to.
©spicy_sugar -
spicy_sugar
7w
Your fingertips
brushed the tears
in my heart
with an adhesive of love
And I am whole again
©spicy_sugar -
spicy_sugar
8w
A poet scratches the scars to bleed
And sleep in the art blood made
©spicy_sugar -
spicy_sugar
8w
Read More
I was mundane. I fell in love. Now, people call me a poet. I made forever memories and a muse out of her. Now she is poetry. "Love, just a further impetus," says Paulo Coelho and I believed it. She was just a step I climbed to reach greater heights in my journey of "Liberation through writing"
I am no poet or writer, but love brings out the best in you. You rhyme words, with the background of the symphony, you will love free verses like the raw song. And still the best poetry you will ever write will be her name. Nothing you write sounds more perfect than her name. You will question your existence before her, and you justify it with "it is worth the wait" You will love the poetry that flows, though it's imperfect, it is made for perfect ears to hear.
But, my friend, let me tell you about the pain she introduced me to. A thing so foreign yet familiar. She left, leaving the pieces of her. Pieces of her in my poetry, pieces of her, that stabs me to bleed pain onto the paper, making a perfect art. Once, the writing was liberation, now confinement or slavery. A slave to the memories and pain it holds. A slave to the muse they hide. Or, you can say an addiction. Once I was addicted to her in my life, now in my poetry
.
//She is poetry.
And the way she broke me
An art in disguise.//
©spicy_sugar
P. S -Since the earlier write up got an unexpected response, I spread my wings around those two lines.
P. P.S - at this point am considering Mirakee as just notes and nothing more ��She is poetry
And the way she broke me
An art in disguise
[Full in caption]
©spicy_sugar -
spicy_sugar
8w
I am not incapable of love from the start
Just, after her.
©spicy_sugar -
Maybe after 523 years
I can unlove you.
©spicy_sugar -
spicy_sugar
8w
The way she broke me,
An art in disguise
©spicy_sugar -
spicy_sugar
9w
Read More
I heard a lover say "I don't know where I end and where you start," and I, dismissed it like it was absurd. I did not know what was the fuss all about, until the day my playlist ascertained the absurdities. It plays all my favourite songs, melody and melancholy. A guy sings " if I am ever gonna fall in love, it's always gonna be you," and it hit me hard. Not the song but the fact that it was 'your' favourite song. And, when I went through the playlist, I realised "I don't know where I end and where you start."
"My heart is, and always will be, yours," wrote Jane Austen. Never in my life had I thought it would make sense, for, after all, I am someone who never believed in forever or fairy tales or happy endings for that matter, until you. Today, IDK about fairy tales and happy endings, but I know forever exist. And it is all because of you. You left an imprint on my heart, which lasts forever and I want to admit, "it always will be yours."
Jealousy was never one of my traits. Again, until you. I am jealous of many things, "Friends" being one of them. The show steals the laughs I own. But, at the same time, I am grateful for I can witness a thousand stars radiance. I am jealous of the air and footwear, they touch you when I can not. I am jealous of the rain and chain, for they feel you like I never did. I am ashamed to admit, but not ashamed to feel, I am jealous of the flowers because it is them you devour.
©spicy_sugar.
