Poets Corner - Tumblr Posts
I do not have the capacity to end a conversation on a bad note. I just do not have the guts to do so. I cannot live in peace knowing something or somewhere my words would have hurt the other person, and still live on like nothing ever happened. I'd apologize, make the situation funny or worse admit it was all me, even when it was not.
At times I feel I fail as a human, because this is clearly a lack of strength in me. A strength to not feel guilty of hurting someone. But at times I admire myself, and want people to be as soft on me, as I am on them. But this is the world we are talking about. Nothing comes back the way it goes.
And the worst, I'd ever do to myself is to become the hard, I hate the world is. I'd rather viciously be killed, than delicately hurt someone.
-An excerpt from the autobiography I will never write, Vanshika.
I just can't get enough of the feeling of being perceived as just me. Me, the entity, the present me, the me that you see right now, at this very moment. Not the me at my worst, or the me at my best. When I am seen exactly where I stand, what I am at this moment. When they take me in right now. Remind me this is my reality. And not the one where I am busy fighting with my past regrets of doing things wrong, or future fears of messing things up. But somewhere in the middle where I know I am not alone, no matter what mess I make.
-An excerpt from the autobiography I will never write, Vanshika.
You wait for me,
was the plan.
I saw you standing,
so I ran.
I could not believe,
people stay.
Warm promises still spur,
come what may.
-Vanshika Singh
In some way, it was simpler,
to walk around all lonely.
To not have to look around the world,
and search for a place to be.
But now when I am here,
where mortals give and take.
I'd have to pretend I like it,
with a smile, that's a little too fake.
-Vanshika Singh
I've asked my guardian angel
to free me of all ties
And show me that side of the world
where heartless humans reside.
So I could be one of them
and be a loner soul
And play this game of earth
of treachery, cheat and foul.
He asked me, if I was
already tired of it all
Who knows if I still hadn't
experienced my worst fall.
Who knows if life has in store
For me, a deeper abyss
I have a long life ahead
so much more to live, than this.
I cried all tattered and broken
Can't do this anymore!
Have myself served on a table
And allow all devils to devour.
He laughed out loud at my misery
Said i can't give up now
With my foremost breath intake
I'd survive- was the very first vow.
He suggested I slam my heart
onto the people, places and things
And let it wound a magic carpet
from all those attached strings.
If I'd save myself too much
I won't have much to live
Life ain't a book of receipts
It's how much you've got to give.
-Vanshika Singh, Slam my heart.
Someone: How many times do you tend to turn the most trivial matters into elaborated, heart wrenching poetries and end up having no significant story behind them?
Me: Yes
She had a soft corner for me, because I heard everything she had to say. Even if at the end I protested about her thoughts and ended up arguing, she was glad of emptying herself before me. I always thought I was a good listener, but when she was no more in the reach of my hands, I realised something more. To say it all and be understood, may be a good feeling. But to listen it all and understand it, is a luxury. We unknowingly become a home for so many. And while it is a two sided exchange of finding home and being one, I think being a home is less miserable than trying to find one.
-V.S
"Religion?"
"Commercialized faith."
"Righteousness?"
"An untouched illusion."
"What of ethics?"
"A bible everyone carries to protect themselves from vampires."
"What? Vampires?"
A nod. "Vampires- the reality of self we refuse to believe."
-VS
I've been grinding so hard,
it's the tenderness in me-
-that is threatening to escape,
but if I don't continue-
-life and opportunities are still going to do.
-VS
It is going to be an uncertain summer. The constant heat that seems calm and firm in its place. But I have this storm running inside. No matter how much I convince myself there is a world after this summer, I know I'll win big or I'll loose big this time. It hurts to not be in control. And it hurts even more to pretend like I am in it.
-VS
Ye Jo Rishte Me Aai Hai Wahi Khaar Hun Me,
Tumne Pehchana? Tumhari Jaan Hun Me..
Khwahish Thi Ki Wo Mera Matha Choome,
Maine Jhooth Keh Diya Ki Beemar Hun Me..
An Elephant In A Room || Lulu’s Secret Desires by Veronika (Nika) Jensen www.facebook.com/lulus.secret.desires
Paycheck || Lulu’s Secret Desires by Veronika (Nika) Jensen www.facebook.com/lulus.secret.desires
My late night thoughts
Have always been you.
Even though you do not care or love me,
My late night thoughts
Have always been you.
awm
── Tom Stoppard, 1996
[text ID: We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered. ]
the insanity of never knowing without absolute certainty that there is a divinity and yet longing it to be true so wholeheartedly. the cursing and the begging to not be forgotten. the suffering and the righteous hatred. the wanting that it was not all for nothing. the terror of being right. the aching loneliness of being yourself because there is no one quite like you and so that means there will be no one who quite understands.
the endless cycle of the snake eating its own tail.
My love, I am yours to keep.
From every part of my body all the way up to the thoughts wandering around my mind, I am yours.
I am yours; everything about me is owned by you and only you, nobody else.
Every glance and breath is meant for you.
Darling, I want to be familiar with every part of you.
The way you like your coffee, but also your goals and fears.
I want to become accustomed to the way you pucker your lips and then letting them part.
The way you speak, Indulging everything being said.
Your alluring eyes, addictive.
I love looking at you.
For you are mine and nobody else’s.
Most importantly, I am yours, honey.
—tilwemeetdarling
To The Moon
What have you looked at, Moon,
In your time,
Now long past your prime?’
‘O, I have looked at, often looked at
Sweet, sublime,
Sore things, shudderful, night and noon
In my time.’
‘What have you mused on, Moon,
In your day,
So aloof, so far away?’
‘O, I have mused on, often mused on
Growth, decay,
Nations alive, dead, mad, aswoon,
In my day!’
‘Have you much wondered, Moon,
On your rounds,
Self-wrapt, beyond Earth’s bounds?’
‘Yea, I have wondered, often wondered
At the sounds
Reaching me of the human tune
On my rounds.’
‘What do you think of it, Moon,
As you go?
Is Life much, or no?’
‘O, I think of it, often think of it
As a show
God ought surely to shut up soon,
As I go.’
I don't even want to get to know you, I want to keep a safe distant, want these feeling to fade out
by laurenmaerie, want to keep a safe distance
It appears I am afraid of my success, the supposed inevitability of it. A piece of me finds comfort in the version of myself that settles into practicality. Why must I grow to achieve?
- @annetries-towrite
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