That classmate notebook rested in the darkest corner of my almirah. The corner that I was afraid to lay my hands on for I knew, it held something that could destroy me, bit by bit, without me knowing the damage being done. It could make me feel the void I felt back then and push me into a state of complex painful mess.
The pages of that treasured notebook are painted with my words in red, blue or black ink which will never get erased. Though I deliberately tried to destroy a few pieces of poetry because I could not bear to read them again but the inked words will always stay there making me turn unforgettable towards everything I went through.
And that is why I am afraid, afraid of the memories that will come rushing back to me the moment I set my eyes on the very first page. I am afraid, afraid of experiencing that brutal heartache all over again and all by myself. I am afraid, afraid of falling deeper and deeper in love for the second time, with whatever I lost.
But, these fears didn't stop me from resting that old and precious dark green notebook, into my lap. My fears didn't stop me from reading the words that pierced my soul. My fears didn't stop me from caressing those pale pages and crying my heart out. My fears didn't stop me from living the gloomy grief, that felt like venom running through my veins.
And that's what made me the person I am today.
~ Abheeti ❤
What made you the person that you are today...?
Do share if you want to 😊
"Ты появился в моей жизни так случайно..."
Ты появился в моей жизни так случайно,
Не думала я о тебе совсем.
Ты сказал, что нашёл меня нечаянно
И решил остаться, но зачем?
"—Я искал. Нашёл. Не отпущу
Кем бы ни была ты для меня.
Люблю тебя – наушко я скажу,
Если потеряю — не прощу себя!"
Вот надо было мне влюбиться по уши?
Вот надо было тебе так колдовать?
"—Тебя люблю не меньше, мой хороший.." —
Повторю тебе я это тысячу раз.
14. Ноября. 2018
But what if
I can't escape the shadow
of my father
and the way
I've fallen in love
with how men
their voices at me?
I repeat the cycles
of my parents
time and time again?
But I can.
words by me,
photography by @fotokayelless. 🖤
Either ways it’s a dope!
Love or hate takes you high in no time.
Have control over your feelings and emotions.
Never lose yourself!
Self-Love saves you from losing yourself!
Never have a feeling of hate, you never know when you’ll start to hate yourself.
It’s better to lose yourself to love
than hate yourself by hate.
Spread Love Stop Hate
Oh dear Mirror,
Why are you so cruel?
Everybody say you are just and fair,
Is it just them for whom you care?
I wonder how old you are,
Has aging affected you glass?
Because when I look at you,
You make me fat and short,
I always feel ugliest of all.
Then my confidence leaves me,
And I’m left with no hopes or dreams.
I can see others with you,
You make them look pretty and cool.
Is it because they are sticked to you with glue,
Or am I the only fool?
And then there are times-
When I’m not with you-
The world seems to be mine,
I feel beauty in every smile.
But it all fades away after a while,
As everybody make me realise,
That I’m not of their kind-
No freckles in face,
Tall, and a tiny waist.
I try to fit myself with them,
“DO NOT TRY” says my mind,
“You’ll end up hurting yourself “. It feels like a Dementor’s kiss,
The happiness I felt a few moments ago,
Gradually, sweeps out of me,
Leaving my heart cold.
And my Patronus isn’t so bold,
To fight them all at once.
Again and again, I wish I was born,
Oh dear Mirror,
You always leave me in despair.
I’m shrinking day by day,
And you still don’t care?
You said beauty lies within the soul,
But believing you was my fault.
Cause I don’t exist at all,
Between those beautiful dolls.
Still, I try to search for beauty within my soul,
Which was lost ages ago.
But I’m afraid my soul is being ripped,
By the gits who see others as beauty and beast.
My new sponsor suggested that I start my 12 Steps over since my relapse 28 days ago. I admit that I told her I was "done with AA" and the steps because "they weren't working for me". Truth is...I wasn't working hard enough for me. I took a few days to think about it and I decided to be open minded and willing to try it again. Here I am at Step 1 with an open heart and an open mind.
In one year of my sober journey, I've relapsed twice. I could celebrate it and say "Yeah me! I've ONLY relapsed twice!", like I was and push it aside, OR I can look harder at myself and understand my lesson in it. I can grow from the experience, remember the hell I went through and work harder to not go back to that spot.
I'm digging deeper this time and pulling all my weeds at the f**king roots! Nothing will stop me from growing into the best version of mySelf I can be! I WILL ALWAYS PUSH THROUGH THE DIRT, reaching for the light! I've been in the dark for too long.
Step 1. “We admitted we were powerless over alcohol — that our lives had become unmanageable.”
What does this statement mean to me? I AM #powerless over my choice to choose to stop...ONCE I PICK MY POISON AND INJEST IT. I'M POWERLESS OVER MY BEHAVIOR AND ABILITY TO STOP DRINKING ALCOHOL-ONCE I TASTE IT!
My life IS UNMANAGEABLE because I CONSUME SO MUCH, ONCE I PICK UP...I BLACK OUT AND I'M ON AUTO PILOT. Who can manage anything in a blackout? I react to life with my animal instincts to survive instead of a rational mind. If I'm not blacked out... I'm passed out. That's an unmanageable life!
Today I will be grateful for everything I learn about mySelf, no matter how painful it may feel. I will not pick up and give my power away to addiction today. Today, recovery wins!👸🏼💛
A TEAR IN SOUL
You touched my heart so deeply
And gave us hope of love,
Guided me through the struggles
And showed me kindness in all
We learned and rosed together
Right in front of the world
We’ve been stronger than ever
Anyone could be in all
Suddenly you step back in silence
Through fingertips fading away
It’s hard to see you right there
And being busy with whatever else
No matter how hard I’m trying
And ever have done for you
I gave you a life of love
To its best I ever could
I would do them all once more
If only receiving the same
My heart is tearing apart
Every time your heart’s so cold
You throwing an arrow in anger
Created by thoughts in your mind
Now I’m left with them to strangle
And suffocate myself in pain
Days pass in silence and nights
For a second I’ve caught your sight
For no one knows what it’s like
To be tearing inside of your soul
Baiba Perot #baibapoetry#baibaperot#soul#atearinsoul#poetess#poetdiary#truewords#wordsofheart#life
Write from the guts of your real and present Life. Write from your heart -- not metaphorically, but from the physical space in your chest. Write from the dredges of your body.
Write from the freckled cavities within your thigh bones. When you ice skate on the surface of what you really want to say -- you lose us. We can't find you because the words look like the day-to-day thinking that we're swimming in daily.
Your audience needs your deeper voice to come out of hiding so we can nod + celebrate + cry + say "YES -- somebody finally encapsulated what I've been feeling."
Write the message you need to hear. Write without wondering how it will be perceived.
And when your writing flutters into the public eye on its tiny new wings that barely hold it afloat... become SO busy making new creative work that you don't concern yourself with the outcome.
Your art isn't about the "likes" or attention or money, although all of that is fun. It's about full-hearted expression. It's about discovering who you are. It's about making what you were put on this planet to make.
Sobre un verd d'esperança es va trobar
un dia qualsevol, a qualsevol lloc.
Patejava el seu tros amunt i avall,
i el verd que als peus creixia no era verd.
Sobre un groc de fortuna es va trobar,
un dia molt concret dins el seu lloc.
Corria pel seu tros amunt i avall,
i el groc de la fortuna no era groc.
No és de colors, Joan.
No és de colors la vida.
I en canvi és de colors.
T'ho dic foll i embriac.
Si no no t'ho diria.
Sobre un gris de treball es va trobar,
un fosc dia de pluja i de buidor.
Treballava el seu tros mesos i anys,
i el gris que treballava era més gris.
Sobre un roig de justícia es va trobar,
aquell dia que ell va saber d'ell.
Defensava el seu tros amb la raó,
mentre del tros creixien mil barrots.
Sobre un blanc de llençol es va trobar;
el dia lleig que el gris se'n va cansar.
Refredava el seu tros a poc a poc,
i el seu blanc es fonia amb el llençol.
Sota un blau cel-terra t'has trobat,
un dia intranquil pels qui són dalt,
que aniran passejant-se pel seu tros
i no et donaran pau ni soterrat.
No és de colors, Joan.
No és de colors la vida.
I en canvi es de colors
No sé com és la mort.
Si veus colors avisa'm.
By: @_.kirati._ // Ode to the smallest, rarest moments that made you feel like this-
Like a small child and at the same time the strongest, most beautiful soul alive..
Moments which make you feel as if you've the world and worlds beyond it in the palm of your hand. Those moments that find you when you're lost.
Moments which leave you speechless, breathless like an iceberg spewing fire, like a frozen volcano in mid explosion..
Learn to freeze those mind numbing, esoteric, ethereal moments standing at the epicentre of our own poetic disasters .
Your is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,
It screams in ecstasy
To reach the whereabouts of magic and miracles.
Under chilly azure and violent ablaze,
Fall silent over the world’s elemental forces.
Don’t wait any longer. Dive into the turbulent ocean
and let the sea be you.
Let the sense of sanity scintillate in hell.