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  • eurusgrey 17w

    10.08.21

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    this room seems emptier,
    the curtains are dull,
    there are memories
    stitched in the walls
    that no longer seem happy,
    the green we painted
    is fading, grey doesn't suit me;
    I'd rather see you angry
    at me, than be sad
    at the world, yes i know
    it's cruel and i know
    your faith is shivering
    even though we just
    made it through summer,
    such big plans, fancy dreams
    simple desires, nothing fullfilled,
    how did we get so lost
    to not notice anything?
    life is a bitch, so is hope
    but then why
    can't i stop hoping?

    i know, i know
    we have differences
    and i hate you sometimes
    but i couldn't ever
    not love you and i'm sorry,
    i'm so sorry
    i thought i did
    but i can't ever wish
    for you to be not there,
    so please, stay
    stay for me,
    for you, i'll pray,
    i'll beg to the gods
    to not take you away,
    i know it's selfish
    and i don't want you
    in any pain,
    but what am i supposed
    to do? who am i supposed
    to talk to?
    there's so much
    that words can't contain
    and so much i'll never
    be able to say,
    not to your face,
    not to anyone else,
    so please,
    maybe, stay?
    -sakshi

  • eurusgrey 17w

    Dear Dickinson,
    Tell me, tell me all that
    your poetry couldn't
    about you, your ways-
    of breathing when
    confined by suffocation,
    of smiling while
    your lips were stitched shut,
    of living everyday
    with death, all around;
    tell me how to be immortal
    without the body, just the soul,
    are words enough,
    to carry you on,
    beyond all infinities?
    tell me, please,
    tell me everything
    because like you,
    i'm a nobody too.
    ©eurusgrey


    #tell #sletterc

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    Dear Plath,
    Tell me about your poems-
    the way your words so blunt,
    cut so deep;
    so subtle, they make you feel,
    what made you so melancholic?
    perhaps, i know,
    perhaps, i don't,
    that's the beauty
    of poetry, you can never tell
    if you are just a fascinated fool,
    beguiled by the aesthete
    and their chicanery
    or do you truly
    find it in your bones,
    the blood with which
    they wrote;
    tell me
    about your metaphors
    of suffering,
    your agony so excruciating
    that words couldn't contain it;
    this world is quite eccentric,
    an infernal place to live in,
    so will you tell me,
    how to write
    what i feel?
    ©eurusgrey

  • eurusgrey 17w

    Let's see where hope takes us.

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    Do you know what keeps me going? Hope.
    And yes, it sometimes does seem like a flickering thread of something on the verge of extinction but does that mean I turn my back to it?
    We humans have the tendency to destroy but we also have the tendency to create, to fix the broken, to heal the injured, to find the lost and to save the dying, it's only natural.
    All this time, darkness has been a constant but it only reminds me of the existence of light; if that isn't hope i dont know what is.
    "Pain only makes you stronger." "Don't let anyone take your heart."
    I was watching a movie and these quotes stuck with me.
    Pain breaks you and those pieces you try to keep together somehow hurt even more. Being strong or brave is not a choice sometimes, it's the only option, but even after all the wars, being kind and keeping your soul is a choice. And it surely is a hard one.
    We take things and keep them as souvenirs. We might not remember what was the story or what was the reason, we remember what we want to, what resonated with our souls. Isn't that hope?
    I don't know if we all have a purpose to our lives but i like to think that mine has, that there is a reason to live or maybe it's just that some choose a purpose and make it a reason to survive. It isn't a consious choice, maybe just instinct.
    I thought circumstances would take away my being, leave me just a brittle stone of nothingness; instead it gave me wings, torn they might be but wings nonetheless- soft yet fierce.
    And so even if the darkness pursuades i'll somehow make my way to the light. That's how i keep hope alive.
    ©eurusgrey

  • eurusgrey 27w

    How hard is it to write something beautiful? something so soothing that the reader has to pause to take it all in and then maybe wonder, wonder how strange concoctions of alphabets carry so much in them. so much that makes metaphors bleed. such serenity that time feels still. i wonder.

    @writersnetwork hello there, Senpai.♡

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    What are words if not
    mere paint brushes-
    irrevocable and fervid,
    that so carelessly stroke
    over emotions of porcelain;
    sometimes like a soft wave
    tracing a thousand
    beautiful infinities
    of hopeful skies
    and pastel promises
    and sometimes
    a manifestation
    of the storm that annihilates
    the entire sea,
    leaving Poseidon
    awestruck
    at how callow
    yet ignorant
    humans can be.
    ©eurusgrey

  • eurusgrey 27w

    Let me tell you, darling,
    my woman is not a single entity,
    she is an amalgamation
    of every earthy
    and celestial being.

    in the dewy leaves you touch
    on a rainy morning
    and the flowers you pluck
    because of their beauty,
    she is the soft feeling
    that melts on your fingertips
    and subdues
    the demons within;
    the fire that keeps you alive,
    the soft wind that eases your anxiety,
    and the lullaby that puts you to sleep-
    she is the touch
    you never knew you needed.


    the dreams you weave
    with stars are nothing
    but fragments of her
    soul scattered and spilled-
    a forgotten wine, never cherished.


    but on some nights
    and somedays
    when her kindness starts wearing off
    because of all the acid,
    her heart doesn't stop hurting;
    she cries,
    she weeps,
    she grieves
    and the universe, for her
    it bleeds;
    there are some hurricanes
    you cannot fathom-
    wuthering and unconquerable,
    she resides in them
    and with her hands
    makes them swirl to the rhythm
    of her heartache.

    a warrior fallen,
    an angel of serenity
    and the devil of ruination,
    some call her a goddess;
    poets have perished
    and humans have ceased to exist,
    within labels and definitions
    she doesn't fit,
    to worship her
    words fall at her feet.
    ©eurusgrey

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    The sky isn't her realm,
    she is the sky herself.
    ©eurusgrey

  • eurusgrey 28w

    There's this feeling, this feeling that's quite harmless but crawls up your skin like some grisly snake and i can't put a finger on it so i settle for something in between suffocation and helplessness.
    she said i was beautiful, that my eyes held the sun and anyone who'd try to hurt me would end up in ashes. but i'm the one who's burning, the heat is devastating. so who is at fault, the venomous angels out there or the honeyed demons within?
    it rains so much and with such ferocity that it hurts. and it feels liberating.
    and then there are just so many emotions and so many feelings and memories and personalities and everything inside, how much can a mere vessel bear? fuck. it sure is overwhelming.
    for quite some time i wanted an aloe vera plant and the leaves i got weren't good enough to be planted and within a few days i got frustrated and just put a leaf in the mud and said that's it, if it grows fine, if not, eh. and the next day just a little away from the leaf there was a very teeny tiny little plant that looked like aloe and yes it was, just sprung out of nowhere. ik it isn't anything big but somehow it made my little heart a little happy and kinda made me believe.
    ive been wanting to write like i used to before and since i can't think of anything or write what actually fucks with my brain so here is some gibberish cause why not. :)

  • eurusgrey 37w

    Sometimes I don't make sense. I just wanted my wall to be aligned.

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  • eurusgrey 37w

    I am the calmth
    that overwhelms any chaos;
    in my lap
    miracles are birthed
    and death surrenders;
    my hands are nurturing
    and love breathes within me,
    yet I'm the one
    whose soul is evanescing
    by the destruction
    caused by my own beings;
    maybe I will fade away
    and become one with you
    someday.
    -Earth


    I am the embodiment
    of freedom;
    on their knees
    poets worship me,
    in my hands are a million dreams-
    some broken, some free,
    your beings look up to me
    some with rue in their eyes
    and some with hope;
    maybe someday
    I will raze down
    all humanity
    and become one with you,
    indefinitely.
    -Sky

    ©eurusgrey

    #opposite #wod #rememberc

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  • eurusgrey 37w

    Good eveniiiing, Mirakee.
    This your lovely and charming RJ EurusGrey for tonight and you are listening to Mirakee FM 95.01. So stay tuned for some wise words.
    ;)♡

    There are endless novels, poems, movies surrounding this topic, but these words by an Irish poet have been stuck in my head since a few days.
    "Never love anybody who treats you like you're ordinary."
    -Oscar Wilde
    Simple words, but the more you think the deeper you dig, until you find yourself questioning everything.

    What is love?
    Love is beauty.
    Love is poetry.
    Love is art and sunsets.
    It is soft and gentle;
    in harsh winters it's the fire
    that keeps you warm
    and a cool breeze
    in scorching summers;
    it isn't the same for everyone,
    it doesn't need to be.

    Love is anything that you truly believe in. It grows where your passion lies.
    But one thing that love isn't
    is pure devotion.
    It isn't just endless sacrifices and pain. It isn't always supportive, it makes you realise when you are at fault, when you make mistakes, when you end up on the wrong path.

    I like to believe that where love exists flowers bloom like weeds and yes, there are thorns but some aches are worth it; nothing the beauty, fragrance and calmth can't overcome.
    Be it romantic or platonic, love is love.
    Be it for things or people, doesn't matter.

    It's in the small things that make you happy, moments that bring out your carefree laughter, people who stay through the thick and thin.
    Love is you and you are love. Maybe you can't see it now, but someday you will. Maybe you'll realise it yourself or someone/something will make you realise along the journey, but as I said earlier it doesnt matter. What matters is that you feel it,
    the way it is meant for you.



    Thank you for joining, I hope you all have a pleasant day/night ahead.
    Goodbye♡

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I hope this fits the prompt ;-;

    #radioscript #wod


    @writersnetwork i'm a bit overwhelmed. Your comment made me smile so wide.
    Thank you, Senpai��❤

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  • eurusgrey 37w

    If flowers could speak,
    I think
    they'd tell us
    to stop plucking
    their wings
    in the name of love,
    to stop pressing them
    between verses and poetries
    only to be withered away,
    like another sad story;
    they'd tell us
    to start watering
    roots instead of
    just what appears to be,
    to start appreciating
    things before
    they wilt away;
    to breathe freely,
    take in the fragrance of life
    and let them too.


    If the sky could speak,
    I think
    it'd tell us
    to stop looking wistfully
    at colours of dusk,
    as the sun dips in crimson-
    a token of passion
    and not sin;
    it'd tell us
    to keep running
    behind things that
    make us happy
    but at the same time
    stop wishing,
    on things that keep falling,
    on ones that are not meant
    to be ours;
    to let ourselves dream,
    to begin again
    with a new dawn,
    a beautiful one.


    If poems could speak,
    I think
    they'd tell us
    to stop wrapping them
    around destruction
    and melancholy,
    to stop romantacising
    every toxic emotion,
    to stop breathing pain;
    they'd tell us
    to start living
    in metaphors
    of hope and strength,
    to reminisce
    the halcyon days-
    wide smiles and wild feet,
    running through wuthering winds
    without any care,
    to remember
    that it's okay to feel pain,
    to hurt, to break down and fall
    but it's not okay
    to get carried away
    with the ache,
    numbnes is not the answer;
    there's a lot to discover ahead,
    a road full of mircles
    waiting to be unfolded.
    ©eurusgrey


    #if #wod

    @writersnetwork Thank Youu❤
    Oh woah. Thank you so much @mirakee ❤️

    And thank you, everyone❤️ I really appreciate the warmth here :')

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    If polaroids could breathe,
    I think
    they'd tell us to replace our frowns
    with serene smiles
    and just cherish
    the good times.
    ©eurusgrey