Miraquill
I am hurting but no one will ask me why
Or if I am okay
Or if their actions are okay
Or if I deserved what I got
I am suffering for waking up
And finding a bloody knife in my hands
They are bleeding and say I hurt them
But I don’t know how I did or meant to
I am hurting but no one will have mercy
They think I am okay cause I don’t bleed
They make plans and I nod in atonement
They’re moving on while I’m moving mad.
CN
24.08.21
16.46
chidera
“For you, a thousand times over.”
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Reposts
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Let’s take things back to the way they are
The time has run its course
Our path have become diverged roads
All things have come to an end
&
Happiness lies on a new map.
CN
24.08.21
16.38 -
They come to you for their sake
They smile at you just to have something
They care about you because it helps them
When you don’t have
When they can no longer profit
When their aim isn’t the end goal
They fall back
They keep silent
They retrace steps
You sit there wondering
You walk with confusion
You sleep with unrested fears
People want something from you
And so they do things just to get it
It is not about you but their own goal
And you live and laugh oblivious
Thinking someone cares about you
Believing it was all meant for your good
When you discover the new reality
You are not mad. You are not angry.
You understand it was for their own good.
You realise that it was hurtful for them too
And you’ll let it go. You’ll ignore the pain inside.
Although you feel bad, you’ll wish them happiness.
But you’ll trust people and let them in less
Wonder why they never considered you and
Never know who will stay nor why they stay.
CN
24.08.21
16.31 -
This city is filled with lights
Overflown with hopes and dreams
Hidden pains and painted up smiles
Everyone waiting for their luck to turn
These city lights are camouflage
This place paved with gold is full of lack
Beautiful streets and disheartened people
Not all luck turns and dashed dreams abound.
CN
19.08.21 -
chidera
49w
Read MoreI don’t know if this came out right. Have a nice day everyone
“If you’re self-conscious of your inadequacies, you need to work on removing the inadequacies not the self-consciousness” - Jordan Peterson
I’ve seen this message before, two weeks ago (or was it three?). I looked at it once, I nodded a silent agreement and I went past it like I never saw it. It jumps at me this morning, its every word forming bit by bit, unfolding in my sleepless brain. I have always been searching for a way to have silence. For a way to never have to fear or run or hear them anymore. Perhaps I’ve been in a futile journey of trying to avoid what is right in front of me. Trying to evade the broken pieces that keep begging to be put back in place. Maybe all I was ever meant to do was sit in the deafening silence of my mind scattering into pieces and wait. Wait till the time where I can see the holes to be fixed. But I never make it. It’s too much. It’s too hard to keep still in a burning furnace. It’s not easy to face fragments of myself that never seem to make peace with one another, each bleeding and tearing the other apart. I’ve tried to stay in that moment and countless more but I leave, I hide, I run, I drown, I flee and never look them in the eye.
I want to try again. I want to test the fire again. I want to hang on till I can see the lights sneak in through the cracks. I am scared. I have no knowledge of what I am to do. I am trying to be able to look at myself without wanting to claw at myself. I want to breathe in oxygen without feeling like an undeserving waste. I want to breathe out all the angst, shame, worry, fear, depression without wishing my lungs would follow suit. I do not want to have amnesia anymore. I do not want to forget the dark roads I have had to walk. I do not want to run away from the pain, from myself, from life, from death; from anything. Frankly speaking, I am tired of running. Wait, that’s not right. I am not tired of running. I am tired of escaping myself and the realisation that I am worth nothing and there is no purpose. I am tired of the shame that never stops following me around. I want to be normal, whatever normal is; anything that is not this.
Alcohol does not help me.
Drugs, they never helped me.
Sleep never relieved my pain.
Love has led me to more pain.
I am going to try. Little by little. A tiny fault being fixed, an ugliness being reshaped, a mistake being made anew, holes being filled—me being whole again. It’s hard. Always been hard. But perhaps he is right. Perhaps, I have to change the things that scare and haunt me.
Afterthoughts:
I wonder if I’ll love me when I become perfect. I most certainly wonder if perfection is something I can attain. Lastly, I wonder if it’ll ever be worth it, finding reasons to fight when I’m ready to rest.
CN
07.06.21
0448
#list
@morsel.
Self-consciousness—
1. A gift and a curse
2. I know and then I know too much
3. I fall and then I fall harder
4. It tells you when something isn’t right and
sometimes, those can be untrue
5. Failures become permanent stains
6. These voices will never leave you
7. You’ll always know more to never have peace
8. Sometimes, it acts as your saviour
9. You need it to keep the pain from spilling to others
10. Sometimes, all it tells is that you’re still in there
CN
07.06.21
0544
. -
chidera
52w
Read More
20.05.21
22:13
It hurts. I’m trying my best but it’s not enough. I want to be strong but it’s so lonely. You’re breathing on my goddamn neck and it hurts. I hate it. I don’t want it. I’m tired. I wish I could run. I do run. Run into pain like it’s all I’ve ever known. I hate looking at myself in the mirror. I am so ashamed because I don’t even recognise myself anymore. I’m just breathing and breathing and breathing and breathing and breathing but I’m dying and dying, going down and down and I get more lost and lost. I’m so broken that I don’t even cry anymore. I force myself to, so these things will leave me, but I can’t make myself cry. I’m just in pain. I’m just hurting. I’m just tired. But I’ll be fine. I am going to be fine. I won’t let anything break me. I’ll keep trying.It’s funny how the world expects you to heal yourself when you didn’t break yourself. They hurt you, destroy you and leave you to find the reason why as a consolation and to do the healing on yourself by yourself. They tell you to not become a burden to others, directly and indirectly.
“It’s your cross, carry it.”
You were perfect and someone broke you, yet they tell you to not sulk about the life snatched from you but rather take responsibility for someone else’s transgressions. No one wants a broken toy but nobody ever learns how not to make broken toys and lost souls.
CN -
chidera
68w
My head is like a small room looking from the outside but it is an ocean sized land filled with mines. I tiptoe around danger spots and I try to stay alive while I run to get out. There is a black and white painted line on the floor and above it lies a banner that says “Finish line”. I have crossed that line many times and it has un-crossed me all the time. I run past the line and the line gets up, a clown blows the smokes drawn from a cigarette, there’s a trumpet sound and out of it comes a cardboard with a note “Tricked ya! It’s just a little bit further up front. Keep running or tap dance with half body parts.” And I’ve been doing that. For years now. I have been running. I have been close and too far away. Every time I reach that line, I pray it is the one. But it’s been years now and I’m tired of running.
I don’t think there was ever meant to be an end but I don’t understand why I don’t stop.
CN
24.01.21 -
chidera
68w
i.
I have always been wild
I was never seen gentle or meek
I wrestled with boys and punches
I ran away from rules and more rules.
ii.
I haven’t always been like this
I was never walking like a boy
I took this cover for protection
I ran away from pain and more pain.
iii.
I do not know how to be un-wild
I was never clawing at my throat
I starve and punish to find release
I keep running from light and more light.
iv.
I wish to be normal. I wish to be sane.
I was never counting days to sleep
I haven’t stopped bleeding and hurting
I have been dying ever since I escaped death.
v.
I do not know who I am anymore
I breathe but I do not know why
I am good at only running
I am afraid of being with myself.
CN
24.01.21 -
chidera
69w
You make me wait
Alone. In the dark.
You are waiting
For a grand moment
The time you finally
Take me out and
Twirl me around
For everyone to see
When all I really want is
To touch the curves of your face
A cup of coffee with you
A walk in the cool evening
The same jokes over and over,
Just a good morning and hello
To fall in love with you again.
CN
21.01.21 -
chidera
69w
Pain is calling my name
She says she still loves me
He says I am the one now
But I have changed lines
I am comfortable with me—
I’d kiss him & never want him.
CN
21.01.21
-
PEOPLE LIKE ME, AREN'T MEANT TO LOVE
I simply adore lovers. Especially the star crossed lovers have my respect and a great deal of attention.
Yet, I can not love. I am too far from holding onto one single thing for a long time. How can I promise to stand up to my words, when I can not even complete my left out poetries, begging for a conclusion.
I am only good at the begging, and I suck at ending things.
Moreover, love is that flame that looks good burning for long and I am one dried out piece of wood. I burn easily, and hastily. So much, that in the end, all that I am left with is black ash.
Also, I'm one hollow, miserable trunk. Loving is horrible for people like me. It makes us insecure for our vulnerabilities. It makes us skeptical about our existence. Love is meant for people with a strong chest. But for people like me, who carry delicate muscles for a ribcage, loving isn't easy. Loving isn't easy, for it tears up our chest effortlessly, it breaks into our heart. We fall for people in a blink. We open up our hearts for them and let them have the access to all of it. We allow them to get inside of us, and mess things up.
//These violent delights, have violent ends.// The more passionate love is, the more tragic is the end of that love story. //And in triumph die, like fire and powder. Which, as they kiss, consume.// Fire ignites the gunpowder as one lover ignites violent desires, exhilarating passion for the other. They create a boom, a burst, a bang of gratification like triumph. They create a triumph that exists for an exhilarating profound period, brief, and frizzles out. People like us are like gunpowder who never understood the sense of loving moderately.
Dying in the arms of our lover doesn't terrify us. Nothing matters as long as we are with them. We live too low-key, and love too hard. //So much, that sometimes it becomes hard for us to think of them without our teeth clenched.// Our love is all the colours, but in the brightest shades. People like us aren't meant for loving, for all reasons defy us once we fall for a them.
~udisha -
brain_dump
34w
Mothers have seen us grow and evolve. Fathers have been the precursors of our evolution. While mothers cradled us through our infancy, fathers have been the reason we had a firm belief in our safety. We, as children, will never understand the conflicts they have to go through in order to make the best decisions for us. Well said it is- no one in this world thinks the best of us selflessly other than they.
But sometimes, and as I've been seeing things happening around me these days, I've realized that things aren't going too well between parents and their children. The reason, as I believe it to be, is the lack of communication and understanding. We are a generation of anxious minds. Everyone is anxious for one reason or the other. It won't be astonishing if we are called the anxious, or the lost generation by the people to come.
No matter how advance parents try to be, somewhere or the other they lack the ability to understand our minds. No matter how responsible and respectful we try to be, we hold intentional or unintentional grudge against them. Who to blame? No one.
Sometimes i feel only if both the child and parents were born in the same generation, maybe they've been able to go along better. Which is undoubtedly a reckless theory, but I see no other point relevant enough to reason myself with. Like how if that would have been so, there would not have been such a huge gap between the thought processes of the two. Maybe if there would have been similar ideas, beliefs, exposures, and surroundings, then none the parent or the child would have had to struggle to stand true to others expectations.
Which brings me too this- is it just the parent who can expect things from the child? Or is it socially accepted if the child has some expectations too? In reality, none should expect anything from the other. That way, things would go more smoothly. But alas, it doesn't happen that way in families.
On the other hand, I see no wrong in parents wanting their child to be or do something. I mean, why not? Don't they have the right? After all, they are THE parents. But also, I see no wrong if the child doesn't or cannot prove itself true to the same. And then if people get hurt, and dreams get shattered, and money goes waste, who's the one at fault? Again, no one.
So why this blame game? Why can't the child sit and explain and the parent open up their ears and listen patiently. Why can't the parent propose and expect and the child understand their authority to do so. I've seen children saying that just because they are the parent, it doesn't give them the right to everything. Well, in my opinion, it does. But what matters more is not to obey to all those commands, but understand their importance and communicate a better alternative.
These days, the parent-children has become so toxic that one of the main reasons for budding up anxious people is family issue. What comes in this type of issue is mainly lack of understanding. No matter which binding we talk of, communication is the key to everything. Trust, respect, understanding, support, encouragement- these are the few factors on which the foundation of a relationship depends.
Can we please normalize healthy, serious communication sessions on the dining tables of our houses between the parent and children? Can we please not make it so that no matter how old the children get, they have no right to think, say and do beyond what parents expect them to do. Can we both, parents and children, expand our perspective, and come to a picture that goes well with both of us? Can we please not treat people of any age group with issues, be it of any type, as irrelevant, irresponsible, or unacceptable?
Can we, as a society, normalize a parent-children relationship where both the parties have equal say, equal right to express and expect, and the opportunity to evolve and break the stereotypical barrier together?
~udisha -
brain_dump
34w
How
do you mourn
over a dead star
in the broad daylight?
//how do you forgive yourself for all the things you could have said and known, for all the things that you could have seen and realized, for all the nights you could have been better?//
~udisha -
Darling, will you hold me in the city of your arms?
as your heartbeat carries the rhythm of a poetic night and your breaths cradle the essence of the moon
The only place where I would like to stay a little longer.
©inked_selenophile -
Don't
over
burden
your
heart
as it
may
take
time
to
reset
its
rhythm.
-theuglyink -
Wild Town
Two roads diverged
in a yellow wood
The two roads left
yellow ashes
Yellow ashes and air
left just
a little fire
A little fire wired
our broken fence
Our massive broken fence
collapsed between
our little town
Our little town became
a little burnt.
-theuglyink -
As long as you keep
Tugging at imaginations
And more
You keep your ink alive
-theuglyink -
theuglyink
39w
The Wildfires
She was caged
Unaware of our dispositions
And masked by viscous ash
Nowhere to be found
She vanished
Leaving mourning yellow stains
Creating golden showers here and there
And the day fell silent
Of the azure above
No different from darkness
And masked with gold
I could feel a weeping phenomenon
Behind my transparent curtains
I could only pray for
Our grounds to revitalize—
Seedlings and oxygen fiddling
With our atmosphere--
So, soon, the distressed skies
Will ride with the sun,
Stars and moon.
Complete.
-theuglyink
-
ckfilvan
39w
Read More#ceesreposts #soulraabta #writersnetwork #miraquill 0211708 @heartsease @blooming_fossil @sproutedseeds @adamantquill @rumanrulesneverend
Note to remember
1. Your poems are beautiful not because you win pod,
But because your poems are beautiful, you win pod.
(And even if it doesn't, it matters not - the quality is not diminished. And you can put an extra effort to make it phenomenal)
2. Look for great poems not because they look for yours.
Remember not to be like some who are attracted by looks only.
3. You can be a great poet without being a reader.
4. Sophisticated words are not the key to great poems.
But do not forget to increase the size of your vocabulary and metaphors cupboards
**I see one taking (borrowing/stealing) a couple of lines fom my last poem and add to his poem! Maybe you loved them - l understand. But how do we account for when our poems (no matter how small) are published? Try to write your own. Sometimes the gist may be same, but do not use word for word.
P.S
Sorry, I couldn't reply to all your compliments. I may have failed or missed your work. Forgive me. I say I did my best to read your works - but I missed sometimes.
Love you, wonderful poets.
Good Bye. I won't be writing here anymore.Goodbye poets
I'm a drop of ink in the sea of poems,
A queer one among priceless stones;
Yet you add add rhythm to my rhymes,
A constant star to my wandering lines.
My words come not close to your love,
Times you keep me on cloud nine above;
I leave my gratitude fresh as silver dew
And gift this poems as a necklace to you.
Though goodbye has to keep us apart
Poems will bring back home our hearts;
Someday, whether I find you on a hardcover
Or you rescue me from a soiled newspaper;
There we would shed a tear and wear a smile -
Far away yet too close to see each other,
So close yet too far to hear from each other.
©ckfilvan -
solace
39w
Read MoreYou're a good person, when you listen to them
And constantly help them navigate the solutions of their problems
But when you voice your own pain, as constantly as they do, they call you a nuisance and keep their distance.
