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  • the_magic_ode 18w

    I'll try to move on.
    I promised myself that I would.
    I won't call or text you anymore because
    I have said everything I could possibly say
    Except for the most important words -
    I love you.

    Maybe you already know, and maybe you don't. I wonder if you'll show up at my door one day so
    I can finally tell you. I'd say those things only happen in movies,
    But our love story has always been greater than any movie.
    So, a piece of me holds onto the hope that perhaps it will have a cinematic ending just like its beginning.
    Please, knock on my door.

  • the_magic_ode 18w

    Karta hu har roz tumse hi tumhare baare mein baatein, Tum anjaan banti ho ya tumhe ishaare samajh nahi aate.

  • the_magic_ode 21w

    How do you feel inside your body, underneath your skin? Are you secure within the confines of your sturdy bones? Can you surely say that you are in control, safe and sound with two feet planted steadily on the solid ground? Or are we the same, plagued by the possibility that at any moment...seconds from now even... your soul might break free and take flight, that the part of you that makes you who you are will crawl out from beneath the skin which protects it? Sometimes when my senses are heightened and everything becomes too much, I swear that I am looking down from outside myself. Perhaps my spirit needs a break from time to time, an escape from the madness.
    I can cope with the occasional emptiness, as long as I don't drift too far away next time, far enough to be eternally disconnected.

  • the_magic_ode 21w

    The afternoon had a beauty of its own, Far from the hullabaloo it was quaint and lone.

    Desire was throbbing in the air, Rubbishing the age-old sayings of the sires. The warmth of the breath, the beauty of embrace.

    The softness of the white sheet accessorised with lace,

    The rising anticipation....

    The thirst for emancipation...

    And in between the world rocked in vigorous beats,

    As pleasure permeated from every pore in that intoxicating heat.

    The holy chasm was laid bare transporting to a paradisiacal retreat,

    Mundane was discriminated from spectacular, even if ephemeral,

    Preventing life from being sepulchral.

  • the_magic_ode 21w


    which is to say, when I see a bird I will feel awe, and it will feel new and wondrous every time. This world is filled with birds. Do you see what I mean?

    I only have four feelings and I recycle them because that's what they told me to do in school. Because they say write what you know, and there's nothing I know like the power of a new name. Like the ache a want can dig. Like the fear of loss, of you.

    There's nothing I know like self-indulgence, like overpromising in poetry as an apology for what I can't say. As a way to say anything other than the fact that I go to bed hungry most nights. Because it's easier to say burn it all down than every time someone touches my face I bleed.

    All my poems are the same four recycled feelings over and over because I don't know how to write about the friend I lost. Or the lies I tell. I don't know how to make it sound good. I don't know how to write the ending.

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  • the_magic_ode 21w

    "Why are people afraid of a love that's off limit?

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    It all started off happy But then it became sad But you always came back Yeah, it was heaven but we Lost all the magic that we had cause my feelings were gone. To the heaven that became hell And I never knew what to tell As you still loved me so much That my heart started to swell I couldn't handle the love nor the pain So I really wanted you to hate me For all that I am but then you fell for me Even more after we grew apart And honestly I fell for you too And so, you will live in me forever like A precious memory trapped in my heart