Tag Archives: heart

Come back home

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Dear heart,

Remember the time you locked yourself inside the ribcage and hid underneath blankets of self-doubt and sadness? I haven’t forgotten how you shriveled into the corner. I still get glimpses of how we both rocked back and forth to music that would mute out the inner screams and the outside world. My fingers were laced with self-hatred and I am sorry that I clawed into you so deep that it started to resonate in every beat of yours. All that time when I wouldn’t breathe or inhale in hope that maybe, this would take me down, you banged on the walls inside my chest until my lungs had no choice. How I tried breaking you but you pleaded to not give up. There was a time when I wanted to bleed you out through my wrists and my thighs but you never left. I remember that time all too well.

I gave you hell, dear heart.

You eventually gave up. I saw the tiny grenades that I had planted on you go out but this time you didn’t make a sound. I smiled knowing how a war had been won. I took blades and butchered you but there was not even a shriek. Until, one day I sat outside your door hoping to start the pain charade when you did not show up. I kept on knocking but you did not answer.

“I hope you do not hate yourself because your soul was one of the most beautiful ones I ever had”, was the only note you left behind.

Dear heart, come back home. I never realized that there are far worse things in life and not having a heart is one of them.

Home and I.

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I keep walking and along the way meet strangers who speak more of soul than just bodies.
I take one step forward and two back ending up in lone corridors with demons who speak of wisdom never spoken of before.
I dance in the muse of the night under the sky with no moon and only stars while looking up hoping to find God.
I hear lies on the lips of priests who have black hearts preaching to the crowd of goodness in the world.
I stare back into empty eyes and find stories the world never knew before.
I have seen broken wings take charge of the air with a single struggle.
I open up like a book to whoever shows me kindness and a bit of love.
My inside is rubble and my outside is just the same. I carry scars like warrior marks and my heart chained to the walls of my ribcage.
I howl at the moon and see through the mountains the dimly lit city below waving “hello” to me.
I hear sirens when the lights go out and screams when people surround me.
Nothing is audible to the world around me but I hear the thud of a broken heart and screeches of a dying soul.
…Everyone speaks of home as a destination and here I am trying to carve one on spot.

A letter to myself.

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Dear heart
Sometimes you have to write letters to yourself. You need to write letters and remember  that life is not all rainbows and butterflies. You need to write and let yourself know that a warrior resides in your soul who has been through tougher situations and moved forward so this time when you feel like shutting the world out and cornering yourself in sheets, read this.Do not shut the lights out and the world for the person who broke you. Embrace the world with your broken self.

You have to know that once you were in the same state but emerged out of it, so let us not give up dear heart and struggle,again.
Firstly, please, don’t give room to people in your heart whose first intention is to break it. You see the signals and the warning signs-you’ve dealt with such people of the sort before-run! Run away as fast as you can when you acknowledge that they will only bring out the depression lingering in your blood. People are not always as they appear to be and so even if they have excuses justifying their acts, RUN! Don’t look back  or give them second chances, third chances or in your cases a million chances hoping that they will change. Hoping that their behavior might change just because you love them and they claim to love you back. Anyone who hurts you with words and stabs you with bitter sentences is not worth love. People have the tendency to chain you down and harm you. You’ve been harmed before, so expect no mercy that this time it will be different. It never will be different. People are the same. You will suffer and learn. You’ll realize that the grave is ready and you need to dump what you cherish in order to move on.
Silence. Learn that your only weapon against anyone whose hurt you to the core is silence. Do not hurt them back with bitter words or physical harm. You remain quiet and leave. Pack your bags or heck! Leave whatever you have but just go. Cherish the memories you have with them but consider them dead. Your mother taught you the meaning of “dead to me”, so apply the rule. Kill the person in your world while he/she is still alive in the other world. You need to respect yourself and not open up to anybody. Build a wall around your tiny heart. Focus on yourself. Let your ribcage be the protection against thunder and hurricane. Do not let it be an abandonment for people who temporarily stay and then go away. Do not open it up for people whose sole intention is to decorate the walls with remorse and destruction.

You love rainbows and butterflies. You love glitter and people who make you laugh. Go after them. Be with someone who gives a fuck about you. Do not chase people who won’t even look at you unless they have a motive to seek your company.
Be kind. Be gentle. Be honest. Be all of these things with yourself, first and then with others. You’re too scared of the world so take it in bit by bit. No need to rush or hurry. Time and people will mold your opinions and your personality. Heck! Look at yourself? Almost 20 years and you’ve changed so much. You’re going to change. You’re going to meet people who will be sweet on the surface but with bitter cores.

Forgive. Yes, forgive anyone and everyone who ever did you wrong. Forgive not because they need it but because you need to grow in life. Carrying burdens of the past will do you no good, dear heart. Some are dead and others are just strangers-live with that. Take a deep breath. Your silence is enough to let them know that their existence is dead to you. Do not go after them. Do not run because during lonely nights you miss them. Don’t go back to someone that has the least respect for you. Don’t start things that will do more harm to you then good.
I know you won’t listen right now but till my fingers can type and my mind is sane, I’ll try my best to guide you, dear heart.

Living is not easy.

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Living is not easy
When you have regrets
Wrapped around your neck like a noose
When you have bitter memories
Decorated on your heart like a spider web

Living is not easy
When your eyes are blank and weary
And you have to drag yourself out of bed
Gulp down the last shot of whiskey to numb down
Fill your gut with pills to pass out

Living is not easy
When the past keeps you up till dawn
And you praise your demons for their wicked games
When the day seems unbearable and you need to escape
So you contemplate crashing your car on the highway

Living is not easy
When pieces of your broken heart begin to resonate in your veins
And you take pleasure in the pain
When darkness becomes your world
You hide under sheets during weekends to avoid friends

Living is not easy
I assure you that, my love
But I was born to struggle
I was born to gamble this life
Everything will fade away
And so will this life

Pretty and Broken-6

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They say that in your broken places, you are stronger than before. I disagree.
You are not stronger but decayed. Your are plagued and infested in those broken places with hate, hurt, agony and pain. Yes! You are not stronger but in those broken places, you are dying.

What in the world is more stronger than a dead person?

Simply, feeling nothing is a blessing. You are dead in those broken places and you give it a positive name, ‘strong’. You know the truth and so do I. Humans have optimism to cover the bitter reality of life.

It is said that if a person loves the places you are broken and dejected from? It is love. No, if a person loves parts of you dead then it is love.
It is difficult to love the dead for long and sooner we forget about them. It is easy to love the living for presence makes it possible.

Dead or living, we all hope that someone might love us. Someone might cherish us. The only difference is, the living hope that it will come true and stay forever.
The dead hope it will come true but rot into nothingness, like everything.

Pretty&Broken-4

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They told me to write honestly

Not about love

Not about drugs

Not about sadness

They told me to write honestly

To write about myself, for once

I had no words you see?

For a while It shunned my speech

I couldn’t find a word that explained a soul lost like mine

I searched for a word that elaborated the broken pieces of my existence

I sought a word that depicted the state of being happily melancholic

I thought hard about the words that could describe the state I am in

Beautiful girl with doll eyes, lost soul, Addicted to self destruction

All these words did not seem sufficient enough

They told me to write honestly

But, I can’t

Not when it comes to me

So, I will continue to rhyme

About love

About drugs

About sadness

Until, somehow I find myself in between the lines of all that I ink down.

Until, somehow my incompleteness makes complete sense.

Pretty&Broken

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You will hear my heart howl in desperation to clutch on to the little sanity that I am left with and if you hear it in the rainy nights when the clouds shadow the glory of a full moon, dont be scared. Don’t be scared at my attempt to appear sane when in reality I lost my mind and then myself.

Pretty&Broken-1

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The truth is I’m frightened. Everyone is in life. However, I’m a bit more terrified at the thought of being vulnerable. I like to write prose and poems on love and life.

“Be free, wild hearts!”, I say, “Fall in love and kiss in the rain.”

 

The truth is that I’m a hypocrite. I’m the biggest hypocrite, I know and I know plenty.

I don’t allow myself the love that I preach to the world.

I’m a coward. I look for shelter in the rain. I don’t dance in it.

I pen down love and life. I spill poetry like vodka and intoxicate hearts.

I’m terrific at making people fall in love with me.

Not the constant.

 

 

I will write you love poems and tell you to give your heart away. The truth is that when it comes to myself, all I have is an out of tune heart beat and some lies to give.