She knew a bit of everyone’s story. but this exchange had a price. she lost so much of her own peace and innocence. The flower that she blossomed into was not of her vision. The fight of who she was and who she wanted to be, caused her silent death.
Tag Archives: Sunday Scribbling
cross the doubts
cross it off
I say in whispers,
But I know the voice isn’t mine;
HE smiles on me
And in my smiles he stays,
He made me for a reason,
And the reason I know now,
Is to make love happen,
And tell the world
Love lives. Right here.
Within our hands ,
And hearts that beat
Together.
so I crossed it off
All doubts from head
And instead,now my
Instincts lead
Verses of Love
Hold me tight,
Etch with your fingers
A verse of our love,
Real like the passionate kisses,
Tall like the moments without it.
… and I promise to read them
back to your skin,
as eagerly as
you would,
Illuminated
by the spark in
your eyes,a fire that
consumes me,every time
you even whisper my name.
—
Non charismatic
some people lack
charisma-
and that’s their super power;
to hide in plain sight,
to blend in a crowd,
to be a stranger all life,
even to ones who see them
every passing day –
These are the people
I sometimes wish to be –
some days I so badly need
this immunity from the world
of known faces , known feelings,
of advertised smiles
and so much shared pains.
==
Written for OSI , sunday scribblings
when I think of home
There was a time, I could have said I have no home – my parents own one and that’s a place I would be welcome always. I live is a cozy room with one of the sweetest soul I know and that’s a place I forever want to return each day – to the same bed , books , that make shift kitchen , those welcome smiles of my friend and our shared space. I feel grounded when am in there – just myself. The honest , open and enlightened. But love has gone some where else. There is a place I have started feeling homely even when I have never been there. A small bed facing the tv , a computer and book rack nearby , a huge window that opens to a view of a lovely tree that’s home to many birds. pets running around the bed in circles , trying to reach me as smell of tea and fresh cookies fill the air. That’s a home I dream of. That’s the home I want. To paint the walls with our smiles and to fill it with colors of our togetherness. Where each season is welcomed alike and celebrated with music and words.
That’s a home I want for myself.
That’s a heaven I will make my own.
Some day , I hope.
Promise
“I will always be with you” , It was a promise they had both made. She skimmed through the pages of her diary , trying to read through her flood of thoughts, finding it hard to imagine, she missed the signs in plain sight. Tears fell on the pink pages, turning them a shade darker yet the ink stayed. Her frail body swayed with each sob yet she kept looking at the cellphone screen, expecting any text or call from him. She expected his scent to fill the doorway any moment, but he did not come or call.
“I will always be with you” , It was a promise they had both made and yet she had strayed. She did not deserve being forgiven, yet she hoped he would understand. Just once, she cried, just once.
==
Linked to sunday Scribbling , Sunday Whirl , Two shoes Tuesday
Baby fun
It was the generic fun activity for baby#1.
To fall sideways and try to bounce back.
Baby#2 was the serious type.
He silently prayed that baby#1 never forgets which side to fall.
==
Prompted @Β Succinctly YoursΒ (Image + “generic”) , Sunday Scribbling ( silence)
Words lost
Within the bounds of thoughts,
we wish at times we could write,
as powerful as we think,
the threads of dreams,
in and out of my mind,
something tangible yet lost.
When sleep won over,
i risked the words last night,
losing them within myself,
finally forgetting,
unable to even trace,
as musch as i try.
Someday it will return from the wild origins,
someday those words will flow again,
someday…
A little while
A little while,
more my love,
he whispers in my dreams
A little while
is all I need,
before this dreams cease to be;
A little while
you must wait
his unhurried touch speaks
a little while
is all I have
to let you know how I feel;
a little while
I understand
I have to make myself believe
Many of these
little while
is what life turns out to be.
Prompted @ The Mag , Carry on Tuesday , Sunday Scribblings
You : my beauty , my wealth
I dream of walking on a beach,
hand in hands with you,
picking shells at random,
watching their design blend
in the sand that sinks
beneath our feet,
aware of your sweet scent,
and your breath on my skin,
I walk into the water,
yet i feel the flames
in each glance you throw;
we devise new ways
to play same tricks together
giggles for kisses,
smiles for hugs,
brushing fingers
as we part …
each tomorrow richer,
each yesterday a lesson;
you lead me into love
and into passion you draw me;
flexibly bending my doubts
and turning into a wealth
i feelΒ I own,being with you.
—
Prompted @ OSI , sunday scribblings , Sunday whirl