laconicutterance

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this place had been home /sia/

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  • laconicutterance 237w

    Asking you to wait back a little longer;
    Because you see the night is almost over;
    Come let's watch the beautiful sunrise together;

    -Jidnya Pandya

    @ivy_words @gayatri_saikia_ @_nishtha @divokost @shabnoor_rahman @laxitha @bashful_wordsmith @_shweta

    @writersnetwork #pod

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    I know I've taken a lot of your dear time.
    Fair enough, I've said a lot, that has impinged
    you deep inside, yet there's more left I have to
    say and you still need to know.

    I've seen you hustling to join your broken bridges;
    collecting the ashes and rebuilding castles over
    clouds so no one sees you scattered. Being alone
    dwelling over your mistakes, listening the tick
    tack of wall clock, synchronizing it's rhythm with
    uneven beats of your heart.

    I know, the things have been changing every now
    and then with sun setting below the horizon,
    leaving behind the scents of cold, freezing you
    with thoughts of having nothing left to live with.

    I know pain resurfaces you again and again when
    you try to find happiness in encase of memories.
    I know words keep colliding in you're head, finding
    no escape, finding no ear to hear your silence.

    I agree, it's been a long while since you last
    hugged someone tight in your arms to embrace
    their warmth that does always calms your rising
    heartbeats. I know your trembling hands want a
    hand to hold that stays for you forever.

    I know it's been a long time now.
    But yeah. Here I'm.

    Probably wanting to spend a little more time with
    you. Understanding you and knowing your soul.

    Asking you to wait back a little longer.
    Because you see the night is almost over;
    Come let's watch the beautiful sunrise together.

    ©laconicutterance
    ~Siya~

  • laconicutterance 238w

    You may shoot me with your words,
    You may cut me with your eyes,
    You may kill me with your hatefulness,
    But still, like air, I'll rise.

    -Maya Angelou

    /You my little princess are a wee packet of beauty inside out/

    @laxitha @_nishtha @dream_weaver @gayatri_saikia_ @wasted_sparks @chandamita18 @charumadan_ @_shweta @shabnoor_rahman @thinkpot @sagarika_writes @sanyogita @dangerous_diva @k_arathi @allbymyself @amulyafreelancer @bashful_wordsmith @perfectly_crazy @nxdhx @fadedautumns

    @writersnetwork #pod #readwriteunite #mirakee

    *read slow*

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    Just slipping at moments, other times hurt being
    embraced by the harsh naked ground. At times
    fighting for yourself with your soft tiny arms to
    stand back then sometimes crying, breaking into
    tears when no one's around.

    You my little princess, are a wee packet of beauty inside out.

    All complete impeccable as jigsaw of love you are
    born. So small yet how do you feel so much
    connection for someone else's scar? All torn off
    inside, you know how to hide your wounds and
    hold back your miseries plus pain. What are you
    made of that you still renew and cure my heart
    from all that you have within.

    You my little princess are a wee packet of beauty inside out.

    Bangles pinks and blue clinking mellow tunes.
    You adorable person, you little heart, dress them
    on your thin hand, banging soft jingles with every
    step you run, the same way as you unfurl your
    voice around like a calming chirping of the
    singing morning bird.

    You my little princess are a wee packet of beauty inside out.

    You suffer, yet don't uncover the layers you lay
    within. You sow it all in writing that stays draft,
    hidden. You break into threads some small, thin
    and sharp. Surrounded with torn faiths and
    hopeless oceans, with every sun submerging into
    distances so far. Then too ready to heal again
    with that thunder that each time hits you so hard.

    You my little princess are a wee packet of beauty inside out.

    Yes you, my little girl, you are beautiful than
    sunset and sunrise are, broken though, yes you
    are beautiful more than emotionless people
    around are. You have know what happiness truly
    feels like. You kid soul. You kind heart.

    You my little princess are a wee packet of beauty inside out.

    ©laconicutterance

  • laconicutterance 239w

    And so there you are my dear friend, standing on mid
    way of this huge journey called life, close to enter
    in the vast ocean where rough waves might
    threaten your being and on the other hand leaving its
    calm happy shore which always showed beauty in
    sunsets.

    Betwixt the two cradles, one that witnessed your
    sweet laughs and other that will now hear your words of
    silence. A little child by heart my friend, you are
    now on the brink of being called sensible and
    strong on the other half.

    ©laconicutterance
    ~Sia~

  • laconicutterance 239w

    Don't know what this is.

    *sounds weird*

    #writersofmirakee #readwriteunite #mirakee #pod

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    And may be, though not really, you know it's hard, confused, we all will open arms in longing, longing for things, for holding them back that once meant stars and moon to us, that just left. You never noticed when or how; why they did not stay? You wanted them to be with you but something just took them away of your sight, far away, out of reach; Something did not work well, all ruined, all scattered.


    You wish them back, close. You carry their essence. You need them. There's amount, huge, love for them that reside in you.
    It's empty now. A vacant nothingness. Feels its your fault as they never spoke. It's worst.


    Nostalgic at moments of that one song you used to listen and sing, it's melodies did sooth but now too afraid to match its strings with beats of your heart. Don't know why? But too scared of that no-knock return of what then we left, yes things we weren't able to hold or what left us back then; Fear of facing them again. Facing us again.


    Vulnerable. Delicate. Too insecure. You feel the pain even in the rays of light. Weird it is.


    we still live on lies, hell afraid to accept what's true, afraid to accept that miseries end, yes they do.To accept that people do return, may be not the way once they were. Yes afraid to know their new being. Shivering at the very thought of being what we don't want to be, called what pierces or being judged, blamed, hurt.


    We join hands to wish upon that tiny broken star but never mend those wee bits rupturing inside us into the perfection of constellation;


    And then one day, out of rage or don't know what,
    we all just fling away even the thought of stitching the torn fabric, mending heart or speaking to happiness, to love, to us. Sitting close to people feels strange. Too strange.
    Tired and exhausted, too afraid;
    we just give up;



    ©laconicutterance
    ~Sia~

  • laconicutterance 239w

    yes, you are sky of limitless possibilities;
    wide enough to trap all best in little time;
    all that this universe hides;

    the havoc doesn't really carries,
    the valor to crumble you;
    you are stringed with infinity;
    isn't that just beautiful?

    hold what's in you;
    you are your own beautiful perfection;

    ©laconicutterance

  • laconicutterance 240w

    Of all the love that fabricates me;
    there's your incessant love that helps me relive in ends;


    ©laconicutterance

  • laconicutterance 246w

    But may be there is sky, a radiant golden sky
    behind those hazy thoughts you are constructing.
    May be you can wave away those clouds with the rustling gush of your inside valor, that'll not only add smile on your face and beauty in your heart but will also make thunder seem pleasant.

    Like the raging ocean falls beautifully on the
    shore and the raining sky adds soft aroma around.

    Your single little move might lighten up the dark nights you have wrapped yourself in.

    ©laconicutterance

  • laconicutterance 246w

    /And then I reach for something to hold close to me, but hands return empty and cold/

    #writersofmirakee #readwriteunite #mirakee
    @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakee

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    Spread out in reach of something, my hands
    always return empty and cold.

    Feet chasing the unknown, I always find myself
    running behind things, umpteen things I can't
    explain, things that don't have a name and
    meaning, things I don't know about.

    Sometimes I'm afraid of losing what isn't even
    mine yet. Strange fear of things slipping and
    drowning in the deep seas of undefined depths.
    Enmeshed by sudden ache. A blow hits every bit
    of me, a frantic haste I shiver in. Loud beats of
    my heart they pierce the cloth I weaved of
    calmness, torn off in pieces of little turmoiled
    threads.

    Heart feels vacant at moments, vacant of the
    little things of feeling, happiness and joy, vacant
    of pages to read the letters of nostalgia.
    And in other places heavy, heavy of tons of
    nocent emotions from nowhere.

    A terrible lie shades this body. A stored trite smile
    to fake togetherness of everything, holding back
    the chaos, the messiest edges of life.

    When there's nothing in this world that seems to
    add glint inside me, constellations seem to differ
    over shapes, when ceaseless sorrow overpower
    its strengths on me I again spread out my hands
    in reach of something to allay my psyche, but
    they return empty again.

    Empty of the love I needed, empty of the warm
    embrace I wanted, to attenuate this hurricane that
    ruins me, empty of that one familiar touch that
    could relent my frore heart.

    All alone and empty I'm, of a hand to hold my hand.

    /empty hand/
    ©laconicutterance

  • laconicutterance 254w

    Though late;
    But I'll return back, not now;
    not retracing those senile stairs that took,
    me up but lead me into unfathomable depths;
    curtain that shrouded me, but never did stop,
    the incense of bitter voices from,
    coming in;

    May be;
    It's fabric was too webbed;
    or maybe its weak threads did never,
    braced its being, like mine strings ruptured;
    I tailored them, they preferred cuts;
    I'll return, may be it will not be,
    easy for me;

    I'll wait;
    till people drown in my absence;
    I'll not ask the stars up there in the sky;
    to shine brighter than yesterday,I'll appreciate,
    them even when they illuminate low;
    thousands of them bedight sky;
    I too will;

    They say;
    I wasn't perfect, may be I wasn't;
    may be they never noticed my sores;
    that adored my skin during the struggles,
    of being perfect, may be they never wanted to;
    I tried to fit, but never really stood close;
    to match expectations, I was lost;
    So I wanted to be with myself;
    was that bad?

    Yes I'll,
    stand again, and now,
    never judge my weaknesses;
    they construct me, they join me;
    I'll emerge from uneven broken pieces;
    I'll listen each tune my soul sings ;
    I'll stay, not because I have to;
    but because I want to;
    I'll not leave again;

    I will return, and now when;
    I'm stitched beauty inside out;
    I'll not back off, I'll come, now when;
    I'm more fiery and fierce, to withstand the hits;
    I'll come with summed trine vigor;
    and strength dripping, I'll come;
    to rule, I'll come to shine;

    ©laconicutterance | Siya

  • laconicutterance 254w

    @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakee
    #pod

    I'm not able to write anything these days.

    Tried this. I hope you all will like <3

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    Lately we all realise life's an endless destiny;
    its path painted with uneven shades of emotions;
    ups and downs all the way long,
    where we stumble and then walk again;
    certain roads less illuminated, filthy & slippery, we fall on;
    then others, brighter than the brightest star we cradle in;

    stardust in our soul, and smile on face so pure;
    we dress in the garment of protection, for safety
    from every little thing around we live in;
    fragile at the edges, they breakdown from the pinnacles;
    then we drown in hope of drowning all those feeling along with us;

    But has the sun ever set taking with it all its shines inside its skin?
    There are always those tiny little stars in the sky, that bedight its presence even in the absence of its arc;

    blow with the hope;
    & trust what's in you;
    live in new;
    change what hurts;
    sow happiness inside,
    each inch you grow;
    come out as lion;
    in forest of hurting wilds;

    ©laconicutterance / Siya