tears, old companion to nights suffering

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  • _mathematics 2w


    Indicted for the night
    when the moonlight purposely
    cloaked itself with love.

  • _mathematics 2w

    Pseudo grief

    Bluffing agonies
    remember the preceding
    murdering itself


  • _mathematics 2w


    miss-match details
    upside-down world
    hold the hand firmly
    to behold windfall
    of words told

    covered in blood
    bitter as storm
    interpreting distance
    don't come close

  • _mathematics 2w


    Whether I deserve the
    best or maybe
    Didn't feel sure
    to watch the world
    question my existence?

  • _mathematics 2w

    absurd lines

    I, the idiot exhibited
    as a contour of lie
    Truth is the wail smile
    I wear it when outside

  • _mathematics 3w

    Maybe I am too weak or too stone-hearted, letting the thoughts leave me in the norm of the deformed night while I breathe, I hope to end this grief.

    Maybe it's not even rather odd to yearn for pain in exchange for love to confer what my heart aches for.

    Maybe I am too desperate to meet grief and dine for the time we could without arguments and assumptions.

    Maybe the day is not the right place to confront the dark, I don't want to go against it although I had countless times.

    Maybe my words are not complete to express what the body feels.

    Maybe, healing is not the intention but suffering is( I can bet on it).

    Maybe composing some parts doesn't make you a writer you are just a person with a broken heart.

    Maybe it's the winter pretending to be tangible in reality it's bogus like 11:11 which every time sings the pseudo wish to be turned into a word of forever.

    #healingdec #silentdec

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    What is it

    I love to sit in silence
    thinking all of this stuff
    roaming in the dictionaries
    to find, what exactly is love?

  • _mathematics 4w

    A far distance

    lost roads
    Remains fade
    Warmth waves
    plugged in cave
    Burning city
    golden blaze
    distance apart
    two souls
    with the love as all

  • _mathematics 4w


    Winter is iced grief over healing wounds

  • _mathematics 5w

    It's been a little while constructing a verse of the story of my life. Over piled with the syllabus of emotions not willing to get complete. As a result, the tariff of blood has witnessed a walk within the blood vessels to recollect brutal stroke to defy life before the week, ends. However, she has asserted the promise to not leave. Hearing these phrases, the beer flooded within the pattern streets concocted over the floor reflecting the person, my evil kind telling me to make her believe that there is nothing left.

    But even in a drunken state, I am holding on to her sayings that made me pour the beer on the floor to warn the evil kind not always your words affect sometimes they too uphold and revert.

    Algorithm of the quote,
    starts with a letter A
    the first letter of her name
    A dark cloud clinched
    the sky aura with it's
    water droplets and
    wet the arid land
    with the white gravel

    the diary is still incomplete, when will I be feeling things again to seek what week seeks at the end of the lane.

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    Covered in disguise as words
    I betrayed poetry
    with no meaning but
    the effect,
    we ceased mirth
    lunging into the
    bluewater to locate
    metaphors decrying weekend

  • _mathematics 7w

    Nothing goes around good
    I am tired of being misunderstood
    Only yesterday night
    the body seems to be responding
    to withstand the fallen sunshine

    But again I experienced
    the fall in the season
    rather meeting snow outside
    I gathered the shattered pieces
    but couldn't place them complete
    cause this time the winter
    is not so close to me.

    I am a pathetic poet
    joining the anonymous
    terms to confess tonight
    How did it hurt?

    The incomplete part
    I am unable to discuss
    It starts with actions
    I performed first.

    In reaction to this
    she did the same

    I felt at that moment maybe she doesn't need me
    not does the people I used to laugh with. Neither past can be rewritten nor it can be relived again. I understood it at the time when her words made me feel safe. She is everything to me what everyone finds in materialistic things, nowadays. How to move on when it doesn't feel good.
    I want to rewrite the love she made me read up. I am bad when more good comes to me, a curse that made me break down. Ruptures the bones that have lost the strength, I am dead body breathing love.

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    I am a dead body, breathing love
    tell me the way to live it