wordsturnedscars

My words had lost fervour. Still I etch them in the pages of my heart for them to remain tattooed like scars...

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  • wordsturnedscars 17w

    A drenaline rushed through ruptured arteries
    N ew hopes glistened like Sundew
    D ewdrops adored roses like tears adorn eyes.

    D ark monochrome stole elegance from
    A rdent hues and planted seeds of
    R umpling Echoes into
    L ighthearted exuberance (and)
    I painted myself in the abborance and tears
    N avigating through bookshelves that were
    G roovy in appearance yet hollow inside.

    I thought love could work (only) that way
    /And I was wrong/

    T houghts tangled like my messy bedsheets
    H ideous crave erring my destiny,
    O ut came indecorous moans
    U topian feelings engraved forever in museum
    G yrating sonnets that I longed to whisper in
    H is ears
    T he erotic colours he added to our life
    leaving me unsatisfied.

    Y elling into the void I had for life
    O, was my past just a Mirage in desert,
    U nrequited reflection of what it wasn't?

    L ove? The four letter word still bleed my
    O aked scars now embracing soft edges of
    V ibrant stars
    E vading into darkness of flimsy betrayal
    D rinking in the pleasure of loneliness.

    M istletoe stole the view of my first kiss
    E mbers falling like sinister chant on tongue.

    B raved the storm and will brave more
    U nloved I was, yet I will continue
    T he facade of being loved.

    I ntentional it never was or so he said!

    W asn't it really then?
    A h, all those cuddles under moonlight
    S hush! Say no more, he repeats, yet again.

    W rong I had always been!
    R ivers are flooded with my tears,
    O Kismet! Get lost!
    N ow I'm punished for craving
    G reat ordeals or so they call 'pure chivalry'


    /Pray tell me,
    Am I wrong in
    Weaving Stardust
    In the dusky corner of my mind,
    Anticipating what I already gave
    in return too?


    Or do I really have to be
    Satisfied with
    Lust embellished on skin,
    The sweaty, pungent feeling
    When he moves from one mistress
    To another?/

    ________________________________________

    The hell that I wrote #wod #stardust (Edited the last few lines out of laziness XD)

    Sam, I wrote �� And I guess this is #temp (Idk)

    La douleur exquise~ Unrequited love.
    But I think u already understood, Dearest Mademoiselle♡♡ @maiatamarain

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    La douleur exquise

    Love? The four letter word still bled my
    Oaked scars now embracing soft edges of
    Vibrant stars,
    Evading into darkness of flimsy betrayal
    Drinking in the pleasure of loneliness.
    ©wordsturnedscars

  • wordsturnedscars 18w

    #two #wod

    Knuckles turning white,
    I knew I had to face my fears
    The atrocities were immense,
    Wounds digging deep into my soul,
    Yet I never gave up,
    Dreaming a better tomorrow
    Where I will be all ears to others' fears
    Once I had conquered mine.

    Shushing my inner trauma
    That threatened to spill out,
    Whispering 'Psst' to Courage
    And miraculously earning back a hi,
    I tried to calculate my moves,
    Soft yet undaunted steps;
    Each one at a time,
    I knew I had to face my fears.

    Amplifying determination
    And blending it with persistence,
    The recipe I made was sumptuous,
    Cooked and eaten in due time.

    In times to come,
    The girl who faced her fears
    will be etched in fragile hearts,
    And everything they lack will be
    exsanguinated from me,
    Morals transferred to their hollow souls
    And at once,
    Warm hearts will be pumping determination
    So as to face fears.

    //O, but what if I was wrong?
    Gravely wrong?//

    _____________________________


    OHMYGOD! This is my first POD�� Thank you so much. Forever grateful❤️❤️ @miraquill @writersnetwork

    Thanks a lot guys for all the love and support
    ��❤️

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    In times to come,
    The girl who faced her fears
    will be etched in fragile hearts...
    ©wordsturnedscars

  • wordsturnedscars 18w

    #wod #love (not at first sight though)

    (i)
    No,
    I didn't fall for you
    When we first met.
    My heart bloomed
    The exact moment I realised:
    Everything that glitters isn't gold;
    You weren't all golden hues and smiles
    As you appeared to be,
    Your blue veins were filled with
    Blues you inked for poetry,
    As perfectly moulded as you were,
    Your life was a cluster of imperfections,
    And we, the kindred spirits,
    Were meant to be together.

    ~To the boy whose smile is as enticing as a coral, yet fake as a lie.

    (ii)
    No,
    I don't believe in
    Love at first sight,
    With time,
    With patience,
    A tiny bud blooms,
    So do hearts,
    A wistful longing transforming into
    Impassioned love.

    I'm willing to ink Epitaph
    for my heart as you had stolen it,
    I'm willing to stitch the wings
    of my fluttering hope which was
    long broken and bruised, determined
    for a bright future with you,
    I'm willing to capture both
    Sunlight and moonlight to
    Scatter them during eclipses
    so as to make your dark brown eyes
    go wide with wonder and
    flush your cheeks with scarlet hues
    I had stealthily robbed from red roses.

    ~To the girl who wishes to embrace the thorn of my heart.

    @miraquill @writersnetwork

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    Love

    O, Eros, you bloom the feisty Desire draped in red, but never ever had you let Love sprout in fleeting moments held betwixt vintage pages of nostalgia.
    I wonder why!
    ©wordsturnedscars

  • wordsturnedscars 18w

    (Not exactly)
    #fear #wod
    @miraquill @writersnetwork

    P S: This is purely fictional and not to be confused with real life.

    First of all, a long read. Feel free to skip :)

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    Clowns

    Coulrophobia at its peek
    When the certain thing with a red tipped nose
    And scarlet mark across his black eyes
    Its repulsive blue mouth making
    it all the more intimidating,
    which she didn't know was real,
    Moved by itself and leaned to her level,
    In his hand chromatic balloons,
    "Ma, Pa", the little girl of five screamed,
    Though lost somewhere in the splendour
    Of carnival,
    They were nowhere to be seen.
    Seeing the wicked grin etched on
    the clown's face,
    She knew that she was lost.

    Darkness

    Trapped in dark lanes,
    Sweat trickling down her face,
    She was helpless
    And knew her feeble voice won't echo
    Beyond the space where she was
    confined in so harshly.
    Nyctophobia mixed with Insomnia
    Didn't help in closing her eyes to
    sleep either.

    Death

    She feared death and even before
    The time came:
    The empty shell she had
    for a heart withered,
    Leaving nothing
    But a moving carcass,
    Reminding her that death was
    not to be afraid of,
    As it would just take away her exterior
    And the void within her is too empty
    For the death to steal.

    ©wordsturnedscars

  • wordsturnedscars 19w

    #pabo_paru_gone_nuts_and_bolts #dearstranger__ #love
    @writersnetwork @miraquill

    The first hashtag speaks for itself. CRINGE ALERT⚠️

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    Dear stranger,

    I never believed in love at first sight
    And will never do so.
    I want to fall for you slowly,
    nurturing a tincture of you
    in my heart and
    increase it bit by bit,
    until it becomes all the more beautiful
    and stronger than ever.

    Using my scintillating quill,
    I want to tattoo beautiful moments
    with you in my heart.
    Using the tinge of moonlight
    I captured in my poetry,
    I want to provide light
    to see the darkest depth in your soul and
    drown in it,
    until the void is filled
    betwixt broken hearts.

    The gap that can't be
    filled with conversations
    we would soon be sharing
    will be brimmed with
    understanding and concern now lost somewhere in historical monuments,
    forlorn and uncared for.

    I'm willing to starve without suhur
    for you;
    I will cwtch you the way I hold
    Onto beads of rosary;
    I will utter your name time and again
    Like chanting Om,
    My swastika useless without you:
    The epitome of my good luck.

    I would love to get to know you
    Over a cup of coffee,
    Cliche though it sounds,
    That's how I like it,
    Simple and uncomplicated,
    Just like the love
    which will bloom within us
    in years to come...

    ©wordsturnedscars

  • wordsturnedscars 19w

    #bonds #wod @writersnetwork @miraquill
    #temp (Idk)
    The bond I share with mom isn't as nostalgic and sad as this, tho. I would rather describe it as strong and solid, never breaking despite our feuds.

    I overthink too much and came up with this��

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    Nostalgia creeps up
    And getting lost in its
    Vintage pages,
    Dusty and crinkled,
    Yet memories raw and sharp
    Tugging at my heart,
    I'm reminded of the time
    You asked me,
    "Honey, tell me the biggest lie
    You had believed in"
    The naive child that I was,
    chirped momentarily,
    "That unicorns exist
    until Karen, miffed,
    said otherwise."

    How wrong I was,
    For then and until now,
    I believed in a lie oh so sweet:
    O Mom, I thought we were close
    when we never were.

    Trying to capture the groovy moon
    Before knowing its scars,
    Trying to pluck the rose
    Unaware of its thorns,
    Trying to fill the void in others
    Unknown of the emptiness
    That crawled in me,
    I was oblivious to
    our lack of intimacy.

    O moon, let me
    bleed my letters scarlet
    And vent out my feelings to you
    For nobody really want to listen;
    They listen for
    the sake of listening anyway.

    O darkness, don't efface my Lord,
    Bring him right back,
    The great white sphere
    filled with words turned scars
    That I inked.

    And O Mom, I won't forgive you for the lie
    You let me believe in;
    I thought we were close
    when we never were.

    Tracing the scars we both had within us,
    Knowing how we never let ourselves in
    each other's life,
    The chit-chat we shared and the
    monologue dialogues we spit out
    Become duller than it already was.

    "Time is precious
    And don't waste it",
    You used to tell me,
    But getting wrapped in the bosom
    Of old pages,
    I bitterly realise that this pretence
    Was used by both you and me,
    Thus cutting the goodnight talk
    We had earlier.

    O, for once,
    Let's start it all again, Mom,
    Let's stop pretending to be busy
    When we aren't really
    And let's be candid with each other
    Instead of spending time
    posing for candid selfies plastering
    fake smiles.

    ©wordsturnedscars

  • wordsturnedscars 20w

    Happy (or is it?!) Reading❤️

    If this doesn't make you smile, then I won't bestow the beauty of rose on you. XD

    #wod (Idk. It's too late imao)
    #walk

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    Idiots don't smile as often
    As you do
    And babies don't cry as often
    As you do.
    The similies are all useless
    To describe you as
    You are more beautiful than rose
    When you smile &
    Uglier than a toad
    When you cry.

    //And my beloved,
    During the walk through the park,
    I saw in you the enthusiasm
    Rustling and echoing in Zephyr,
    Splashing water akin
    To your vivacious self,
    Your voice more like a song
    And less like a chirp
    Absorbed by the breeze
    with the succour of clouds
    that had, with a tint of waywardness,
    captured the sun in its arms
    the way my camera (to your soul)
    captures:
    Your smile,
    Your tears,
    Your everything//

    ©princessfuzzy

  • wordsturnedscars 20w

    #wod #february @miraquill @writersnetwork

    Idk y but February reminded me of those three words: 'Fab' 'Bruh' and 'Harry'��
    P S: Sorry Harry Freaking Styles
    Le Prince Harry and Harry Potter, 'babbyyy I'm just a hallucination'��
    @maiatamarain See what I did to our 1D member XD

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    ̶F̶̶e̶̶b̶̶r̶̶u̶̶a̶̶r̶̶y̶
    First Week//

    The dawn of seraphic glory
    invites me to her bosom,
    remembrances of a
    hooded wintry month that had just passed
    thus relieving others of its lethargic bitterness
    from her unforgivingly cold arms
    that grabbed nippy long nights
    and seldom held days for long
    lest her fingers burnt in scorching heat,
    Striking me less like thunder
    And more like lightning,
    The latter being an epitome of
    Muffled screams and cluster of
    imbalanced nature,
    Much relatable to my present self.

    Valentine's week//

    Erotic hues embellished the week
    With people blushing and smiling
    like sunrises and sunsets,
    each dwelling in bliss of ethereal splendor,
    the roses in lovers' hands akin
    to the vermilion on the lovely welkin's
    forehead during dusk.
    I exhorted the Cupid
    to aim his arrow in my direction,
    but alas, what a teaser,
    he enthralled me, smiling,
    Leaving me in a trance
    with an amorous caress on my cheek.

    Anti Valentine Week//

    The ugly side of romance
    wasn't far-fetched,
    The roses withered and
    Welkin quashed her vermilion
    in a blink,
    Leaving the angry groom (sun) to set
    in sync,
    Giving way to despondent nights
    Never so exhilarating as before,
    The Cupid's now angry face reddened like
    the hearts he had bloomed
    with love.

    Last Week//

    Tears sticking to eyelashes like
    dewdrops on a parched leaf,
    Lips quivering like
    uttering a lustful sin,
    I knew that nothing had changed
    And never will,
    The month of February
    is just a caring version of January,
    Tending to wounded heart
    But never healing it completely...
    ©princessfuzzy

  • wordsturnedscars 20w

    @miraquill #wod #apology
    @writersnetwork Thanks a lot for the kind repost✨❤️

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    A mbers glistening with fire,
    bloodcurdling screams
    hushing muses now worthless,
    dwindling into nothingness.

    P arables are facts that lack reasoning,
    featuring an unuttered lie.

    O ,Dolus,
    get out from my tongue,
    for otherwise, I will be spilling something
    that doesn't even exist.

    L ove was what I really felt,
    and I know you did too,
    but I was too headstrong and shushed
    the fire of Amber shimmering like gold
    in both of us.


    O ut of my house,
    I wandered,
    dwelling in bittersweet memories,
    the rejoinder of yours that had me
    all chuckles,
    fancy your searing touch
    on my willing skin,
    now all sloppy and dry
    without your warmth.


    G ulping the lump in throat,
    reaching the extremities
    and trapped in the tincture
    that I had for a world,
    and going back home
    only to curl up and cry,
    repeat the routine for
    successive days,
    and I knew that I messed up
    really bad this time.

    Y ou appeared as a silver lining
    and provided light to see through
    the darkest gallows I was confined in,
    an apology won't rewrite
    the callous way I acted towards you,
    yet I'm writing it
    coz I don't want the marks I left in you
    to emerge as scars
    deeply engraved within you.

    ©princessfuzzy

  • wordsturnedscars 23w

    We aren't known for what exactly we're, different people have different perceptions about us. A person may be hero in one's life and villian in the others'. It all depends on how we treat them, what impression they have of us.
    But when I see myself, sometimes all I see is emptiness. It really got replaced by bright colours throughout my journey and I found myself enjoying life more than ever. The mirror is neither a better nor worse version of ourselves. The you in the mirror is as imperfect yet beautiful as you are. Considering the person in the mirror as a stranger and trying to get to know them, we are giving ourselves a chance to look deep into ourselves and know ourselves profoundly. But me being a typical lazy klutz, I just decided to write what came to mind of myself without examining my inner layers more deeply. And what I have now is a person who isn't shallow or anything, but vain. Vanity is a damn bad thing, but still better than a low self esteem. People with low self esteem don't know how to love themselves and think they don't deserve this world while they really do. A narcissist knows her worth and would spent her life with someone who loves her the way she loves herself. I didn't want to ramble on for so long, but those who read upto this are the real gems.
    #mirror #wod @miraquill @writersnetwork

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    When I look in the mirror,
    I see a frozen heart
    Unable to let fervour flow
    In its icy state.

    With the succour of
    Blue veins,
    I tried to feel the blues,
    And yet,
    All I saw in the mirror,
    Was a vain girl with atrocities
    Wanting fame
    For her scarlet poems
    Dipped in the blood of her arteries.
    ©princessfuzzy