Miraquill
living a distorted way of life
nothing went as planned to be
faking happiness
ignoring faults
all mess had piled up inside me
one fine day things were same
life with no pain
tbh i had nothing to gain
some vibes were felt
things were hard to describe
who knew what things would be like
strange is your story
pulled me closer as i wanted to read
pages were torn
but i chose not to mourn
every page of you had a tale to tell
i dont care if things weren't well
now that you're here
still a few things aren't clear
mature enough to justify what you mean
immature enough to mess with me
©niaj_ihdirap
niaj_ihdirap
okayish.
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niaj_ihdirap
15w
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please say u lied-
that one sentence was enough for me
enough for me to break you free
break you free from scoldings of me
scoldings of me you'll never see
you'll never see what pain it was
pain it was that was growing in me
growing in me was your laugher i saw
laughter i saw was hard to forget
hard to forget those chats we had
chats we had from time to time
time to time i got to know
got to know how no one knows you
no one knows you from inside
from inside how good you are
good you are how sensative you are
sensative you are still you said
still you said that one sentence.
©niaj_ihdirap -
JAADU
living a distorted way of life
nothing went as planned to be
faking happiness
ignoring faults
all mess had piled up inside me
one fine day things were same
gave no pain
nothing to gain
vibes were felt
hard to describe
who knew what things would be like
strange is your story
pulled me closer as i wanted to read
pages torn
but nothing to mourn
every page of you had a thing to tell
i dont care if things weren't well
you're here
but still things arent clear
mature enough to justify what you mean
immature enough to mess with me
©niaj_ihdirap -
niaj_ihdirap
34w
take me back to the time i rose!
take me back before my body froze!
©niaj_ihdirap -
niaj_ihdirap
34w
brink sea.
veil clouds.
slow breeze.
time freeze.
©niaj_ihdirap -
niaj_ihdirap
34w
nothing to say,
nothing to hear,
rest-
I believe
I made myself clear!
©niaj_ihdirap -
lo maam liya humne tu sirf dost hai
ladna taunting krta roz hai
confused se rhti hu mein har peher
ye dosti hai ya roast hai
sorry bolne se toh tu nhi h hichkichata
i really dont know kitni ladkiyon ko tu roz hai manata
itne confidence se bolta hai sab
par ptani kya sochta hai
dost hai tere boht
par phir bhi ptani mujhko kyu jhelta hai
i was not and will never be the topper
but trust me the expectations you show make me do things i was afraid to do
u would never even know i was attracted to to you
roz ka milna routine mein hai
jab nahi aata toh kuchh nahi lubhata
dil se chahti hu mein tu sabse mile, baat kre
par meri jagah kise dega yaar
interests change kre apne meine
par ptani kuchh samjh hi nhi aata
koshish kari thi meine
par uss vakt kyu tu nahi smajhata
hn maam liya ki tujhe poocho toh inkaar nhi krta
par yaar kisi time shanti se baat bhi toh nhi krta
meri dosto ko baare mein mujhse toh poochta
par kya kabhi mere baare mein unse poochhne ka tujhe hai soojta
i really like the way you changed
i dont know was it me or koi aur
lo maan liya bond achha hai
par ye hamesha bana rhe yhi rab se meri ichha hai!
©niaj_ihdirap -
niaj_ihdirap
36w
YOU ARE AUDIBLE, dear teacher!
In the peaks of sleeping time,
Whenever the clock shows nine,
The teacher is up,
Leaving everything like breakfast and brunch,
And hurries with the laptop to the an isolated room,
Where the maid has not even used a single stick of broom.
The kids are joining on and on,
And till that time the teacher remains mute.
One child says, Good morning ma'am!
And the duty starts with a fresh new plan
and this thing you see, it's formed when you put alot of salt into some brie! Got it children?
She ensured everything is heard,
She ensures everything is learnt,
She ensures not much is given for home,
She ensures that not even a single kid feels gone!
Okay so the next question is......
This is how she takes assessment,
Not forcing anyone to show contentment.
Nearly 3 hours in day
And remaining 3 that come along the way,
Is all that is expected from her,
Is she a daily wage worker?
Just 6 hours is what they say,
Ask a maths teacher,
It's actually 1/4 of a whole big day!
Checking assessment of children is not easy,
I can guess how much they wish they could just flee!
Lockdown has been difficult for all,
But for teachers remaining warm doesn't mean bad times are gone!
For all those who think this, you're wrong,
Crosscheck by thinking about connecting with 50 children in a room, asking them to seprately sing a song.
Mute children! Unmute children! is where half hours goes,
And her plans for the day are all pissed off!
How she thought of completing 5 pages today,
But how it ended up with just 2 pages a day.
Her life, it's all screwed up!
But still with a smile on the face,
She greets every child with a happy day!
We might not understand her situation,
Because we're all oursleves screwed up on our extra long vacation!
©jain_paridhi -
surprise
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ohh lord! can you hear me?
everyday.... can you bear me?
this world... just wont dear me...
show me the way!
All those times,
that you were thereee,
i dont know where, but
all i know is you do-EXIST!
for me!
I KNOW ITTTT
I KNOW ITTTT
but i dont know what to doooo.
EVERYONE'S SO MEAN I DONT KNOW HOW TO FACE THIS CRUEL WORLD
I TRY HARD TO GIVE MY BESTTTT, BUT OTHERSS JUST DONT TAKE A REST!
2 STEPS FORWARD AS I GOES, I DONT KNOW WHO FOLLOWS, SOME ONE COMES MY WAY AND DITCHES MY DAYYY.....
OHH DAYYUMMM
i might not be working hard,
i might not be worshiping your card
but deep inside you know you exist!
FORGIVE ME, MY LORD!
PLEASE DO!
PLEASE DO!
I REQUEST YOU!
PLEASE DO!
Its your child, waiting- FOR UH!
©niaj_ihdirap
-
but to let things
come back
you need
to let them go.
SS. -
fromwitchpen
54w
Read More#diaryentry
@writersnetwork much humbled and honored ❤️
Much love to you all ❤️ you all are those jinne mera dil lutya ��May 5' 2021
Dear Diary ,
In the labyrinth of life my
feet enmeshed , espied
cradles gibbeted on the
shoulders of skies they
thought she in future will
be their Achilles heel ,
filicide her existence by
limning fictitious customs
Last night I met a colleen so peart and resplendent her presence . She plucked a strand of her hair then inhumed it . I observed her till the 7th tick of clock . In a bolt from the blue she vanished . Startled , I hared where she was sitting. I dug up that place and found a broken cradle and a black rose burgeoning with puffs of hiraeth and winds of audacity . Even in the dark grave she bloomed .
//I learned how to be optimistic from a dead soul but sentient and alive heart//
©fromwitchpen -
namia28
69w
Do not look for love in my writeups
You won't find it
I buried it alongside my last relationship
I'm unable to think of moons and stars and roses and honey when I think of love
All it reminds me of the terrible ache and the emptiness that accompanied me on my solo nights
Tears falling like pearls on my lap
I've given so much to love that I can't bear it anymore
Because when love doesn't give back what you give to it
Your heart turns stone cold in the process
So much so that the next time I got flowers on my doorstep I buried them in the backyard
Right next to the scraps of promises he had whispered in my ears
Do not look for love in my writeups
I've burnt all the remainders
And swallowed mouthful of ashes
Choked my own mouth so I couldn't scream his name
My heart is still healthy and beating strong
It just doesn't beat for no one but me.
©namia28 -
Let know
me
when you want to fly,
i'll switch-over my soul
into large diaphenous wings
to raise
you high.
©26as -
the_fox
86w
he died of excessive money
just losing all my friends,
vocal chords are strung out
as if every whisper from your mouth
is a burning bridge
to my subconscious;
condemned for murdering my ego,
and everybody else shackled to it.
the devil has the virtue of patience,
steadily waiting, on the other end
of the batphone;
whilst God has taken LSD,
preaching about
how ignorance is bliss.
drinking gallons,
that the bladder couldn't handle,
Jesus Christ, she has a pretty face
but she makes me want to rinse
my eyes with acid,
flaccid psychological balance,
the colours are divergent
through these slits of shattered glass.
vomiting my brain out
on the sink, on the pavement,
could you pick it up for me, please ?
sleeping on a bed of addiction,
the inclination has failed the degausser,
and hence, the remnants hurt my head,
the money would surely make my bed,
but who would be sleeping next to me ?
(well, Ben Franklin
we love you so much,
but do me a favour
and don't reply;
because I can dish it out,
but I can't take it).
©the_fox -
thewordplayer
99w
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branthan
86w
Read MoreWriting isn't a therapy for me. I never understood the idea of writing being so therapeutic, that somehow trying to write down what you feel is gonna magically makes it easier to survive. The objective part of my brain knows that language is a complicated thing. It's sorta like an output of whatever it is that your brain process and you experience as feelings. And feelings are just chemical reactions, when you zoom enough, chemical reactions are nothing but physics, right?
Is it okay to see humans as much complex physical systems running on chemical processes that perceive the world as it is?
I always had this feeling that we are limited by our language. How much you can express yourself is limited by the strength of the language itself.
Sometimes you feel too much, it is as if all the words the world has to offer is not enough to pen it down on a white sheet of paper that looks as empty as the space between stars where light forgot to touch. You're not sure what to make of it, what it is that you're feeling, or the why, so you keep it for yourself and try to make sense of it.
It is a strange kind of loneliness, isn't it?
Is it the limitation of the language or the limitation of your knowledge about the language?
But at times you don't need the language at all. One look at your best friend and you immediately know that inside joke you both are thinking about. A touch, a hug makes it easier to lift that weight pulling you down. A silent night staring at the starry sky with that someone, and you know, you just know that this is the one, even if it only lasts for a day or week or month or a few years, you know this is the one.
Infinities and forevers are tiny little moments, aren't they?
I used to romanticize about reality and existence. I still do. But there is this internal battle that I'm forced to go through where my left and right side of the brain fight to figure out who can come up with the best explanation to this reality that I perceive as mine.
Do you really need to understand "the why" to feel a little less of the existential dread falls upon you every night? Or knowing that "why" takes anything away from the subjective experience that feels so personal?
I don't think I've ever loved anyone enough to write like Neruda, or was sad enough to write like Bukowski. Perhaps that's why the lines often end up being so mediocre that I end up deleting on a second read.
But there are some words, carefully structured by someone else in a way to make art. With the very first read, it connects with you. Every line, every word, and every space makes sense, telling you the story that you always wanted to shout out. "this is exactly what I feel".
Perhaps it is not the writing that makes you feel better, it's the carefully crafted words that you read and knowing the fact that there is someone out there who feel the same, finding that human connection to know that you aren't the only one. Someone has lived this life, lie down in the same space, and looked at the same sky wondering about the same damn questions. Some managed to find the right words to tell the story and some never did. Maybe all of this is how I feel, maybe you feel it too. Maybe this story is mine, maybe this story is about some random stranger with no name or a face, maybe this story is yours. Does it really matter?
I don't think it fixes you, but for a moment you are not alone, you smile. One day you learn how to make peace with it, but still wonder about things beyond all the words and all the languages that the world remembers, beyond the mundane chains beyond the bounds of gravity, something somewhere the world forgot to reach.
You wish you could understand, how you feel complete yet empty at the same time. I wish too.
#justamidlifecrisis.
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