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  • winter_dreams 4w

    Close your eyes and cry,
    Sing softly and don't ask me why.


  • winter_dreams 4w

    I sometimes forget how tangled I am.
    I sometimes forget how okay it is to be so.

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    I've three years worth of tears left to cry
    It's time to be on my own
    I've been sputtering apologies straight for years now
    I thing it's time to forgive myself before I'm far too gone.


  • winter_dreams 4w

    What time is it?
    It's heal o'clock.

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    I'm coming to terms with a lot of things these days.
    I don't miss people, I miss what I was when I was with them,
    The extremely pure power of positively and determination I possessed.

    I guess we spend most of our life earning respect and chasing love,
    I think the most we need is to close our eyes and feel the respect from our hearts reflecting in our minds.

    I've been told I speak a lot less these days, I work a little more, I think a little more, I feel a little more.

    Some random part of a book I read a long time ago hit me suddenly today, at a random hour and I had a good cry.
    I bid a little more farewell, I felt a little less.

    I realised people around me are a little less different than me and I expected to feel the content of normalness,
    But all I felt was a sharp slap of logic and a warm hug of desires to be my own self.

    I look inside and feel hate sometimes,
    Sometimes I am amazed I am still standing,
    Sometimes it's pure confusion.
    But I'm not numb anymore.
    It's a tiny step,
    But a step nonetheless.

    The above lines don't relate to each other
    And it brings me comfort,
    To wrap all extreme parts of me in one.

    I guess I will heal, the depression and over thinking a few people I loved in the past gifted me are ready to rest in the near future.

    I guess I'm coming to terms with things that are normal,
    To still love people who aren't around,
    To miss memories we had with people and feel guilt,
    To feel it is acceptable to move on from guilt,
    To accept demise and be okay with grieving.

    It will all come to an end
    And then we'll have another round
    And another end
    And another round.
    I'll writing heartbreaking stories,
    I'll cry with them and I'll heal,
    I'll break again.
    As long as I learn to depend on myself,
    In weakness and strongness,
    I'll be okay.


  • winter_dreams 5w

    I think while people were hoarding sanitizers, I hoarded feelings. I need new shelves to keep them :)

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    The Leftover Leaflet

    I always thought
    People knew something I don't
    They have something, all of them
    And I don't. Something they are hiding,
    Living, acting and I always felt like an outsider.
    I always go back to the time I felt a great feeling everytime I close my eyes
    and I never know whom to associate it to.
    And whom to blame for not feeling the same again.
    Now all I see is hollow
    All i feel is hollow.

    Naiveness and trust are smart people
    And I guess that's why they never came to me again
    Maybe that is the punishment of not being patient
    I don't get to feel truly again.
    I guess snippets of guilt and hurt will always decorate happiness
    And maybe someday, someone will appreciate that art.

    I think comfort and content are multiple people
    And not one
    And everytime we will be served a different version
    And if we are lucky enough, we get to keep one with us in it.
    And if we are unlucky enough, we get to keep a piece with a haunting beautiful face in it.
    Maybe that's what people don't tell me.
    Maybe that's what they are hiding.


  • winter_dreams 5w

    (P. S : This is clean. No bad words)

    Also, it is kinda stupid. Like really stupid. But, it kinda expresses what I want perfectly.

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    The Half Burnt Pages

    The title emerges from my paranoia.
    I guess I really don't like telling people I feel.
    So if I wrote somewhere, sometime how I feel,
    I'll burn it down, but not really,
    Because I want someone to know.
    I want someone to feel that I feel too.

    I carry an empty bucket inside,
    In a tiny hut near my heart.
    When heart pumps emotions
    I fill the bucket to brim and forget.
    Maybe it makes me strong but
    The windows know I'm weak.

    Sometimes, heart pumps confusion
    And the hut closes it's door,
    Ears open their windows then
    And I hear emotions, black emotions.
    I guess the bucket gets thirsty.
    The hut is greedy, the words are coward.
    Silence is like ego, it grows on hurt,
    destroys it and make the blood more poisonous.

    I guess someday,
    When the bucket knocks the door of the heart
    And pours black, confusion accepts the clarity
    The darkness provides and heart accepts blood,
    Blood, that is not it's own.
    I guess mind cares and I know
    Care and hurt share a special bond.

    When the bonds break, it bleeds
    And only silence knows the colour.
    It wins, because I don't tell.
    Maybe that's why ego smiles.


  • winter_dreams 8w

    I'd like to drown in tragedies,
    If you agree to do the same.
    I'd like to know how you made it through,
    Whisper it in the air and call my name.


  • winter_dreams 9w

    All this time, I thought my life was a tragedy,
    But now I realize it is a comedy
    A comedy with nightmares
    Nightmares that force me to write words
    Words that have meaning but no sense
    Sense that has decided to stay hidden inside
    Inside in mind, and now it's time
    Time for the demons to rise.

    The first two lines above are from the iconic movie "Joker". Sorry for ruining it. Hehe.

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    "Do I ever come in your dreams?"

    "Yes and when you do, they become nightmares." Came a growl.

    "Do you nurse them? Do you gulp them down because you have to?"


    "Did you let go? If you did, I think you did, why can't I?"

    Ragged breaths. Mingled.

    "Do you think you were an angel? One that got angry and left? Or were you the devil that decided to extend your stay?"

    "I don't know. Why would I know? Why are you asking me? I went away right? Go talk to someone else."

    " I don't think I can. That's why I'm brought here. I don't know how to talk anymore. I don't think I'll know now."

    Retreating foot steps.

    "Will you come back. When it's not dark. Will you show your face and smile? Will you miss it?"

    Heavy silence. "Maybe, I don't know."

    I heard the footsteps and heart beats that sounded awfully like hope and I knew it was a nightmare. Hope.

    Untill you don't know how to separate it from yourself and see it fly away and only see it smiling at you seldom.

    You can't cage it. There is only so much blood you have and so much the threads can absorb.

    Let go.
    Why don't you?
    Why can't you?
    Be alone
    Why don't you?
    Don't fire away words
    Why can't you?
    Stay will yourself
    Won't you?


  • winter_dreams 10w

    Hola!! Stay at home people. Stay safe. I hope this quarantine, you learn to love, love yourself ❤️

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    "Regrets", I asked, "How are you supposed to not have them?"
    "How are you supposed to not see what is in front of you?
    How are you supposed to not accept defeat?
    How are you supposed to not know you are broken and still breaking?
    How are you supposed to not realize you don't know how to hold threads without feeling crimson?
    How are you supposed to hold onto crystals when you don't even believe you are one?
    How are you supposed to explain when you don't know how to feel?
    How are you supposed to be silent when the noise in inside?
    How are you supposed to be coffee when you are carrot in hot water?
    How are you supposed to not feel insecure?
    How are you supposed to build a wall when the bricks have given up?
    How are you supposed to be yourself when the mirror refuse to reflect you?
    How are you supposed to not have regrets?"


  • winter_dreams 11w

    And the fight of today is brought to you by humour.

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    Baby I'm Netflix-ing in the dark
    With maggi bowl between my hands
    Barefoot on the mattress
    Listening to the background noise to feel less empty inside
    And when they switched the room light on and said I looked a mess
    I whispered to the 12 personalities in my brain
    They don't deserve it,
    Darling you are perfect dressed like a queen or homeless woman.


  • winter_dreams 11w

    Gift me a paperboat
    Soaked in attention.
    I'll look for the flaws in red
    I'm the maniac your stories mention.

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    Do you think puzzles think?
    Do you think demons sleep?
    What are you looking for? Sense?
    I buried it alongside love, 6 feet deep.