|Metaepiethpoliesthe... The end never ends. Ink slinger. Capella. Sky180116. Storyteller. Books. Tunes. Instagram: poeticblink29 www.inkandmuffins.com|
S P A C E S .
The dirty strings hanging on the window,
Vertical mirror placed diagonal to the walls,
A magnifying glass placed on the side table,
Are the only elements being shuffled in your life with proper distinction.
Intoxicating moist formed on the glass pieces,
Reflecting one prodigious mistake,
Wondering how long will you hide the secrets
Inside the pages of your unpublished stories,
Leaving behind the fragrance you carry,
On the doors of a posh cafe,
On the tables of an old library,
On the benches on an empty park,
On the scarves you wish you had thrown away.
Drops of paint found here and there,
Sincerely wait to be united under the shadows of dirty clothes,
Picked up by scarred hands and tired feet,
To be thrown somewhere
Into the universe,
Just to encounter reality -
That flashes like a thunderbolt and roars like a mad sea,
Only to capture the minds - functioning arbitrarily,
interrupting the silence,
Gliding in the midst of three walls,
And hiding beneath her calm postures
In a sensuous way,
Which will eventually turn her into an art piece.
Challenging the immortality of your morals,
Enamoring the quintessence you had always wanted,
Colliding with the boundaries of shame and desires,
Such was his propensity. ...
You are not wrong. You are definitely not bad. I somehow wish you would present yourself in a better way. You do realize right, that you drive people to do something out of their comfort zone. That’s the problem. Only that!
Otherwise you are just fine. You are beautiful in your own way. You have some scars which are difficult to praise but for those who understand, you will always remain beautiful.
You make them touch the curves in their body they never would have otherwise. You place unknown reflections of their intense characteristics before them that they never would have looked at otherwise.
You influence them to comprehend the moon and the stars in a better way. Y...
I need to free myself. Every day I endeavor to think of better approaches to break the chains that bond me to the divider and with each fizzled endeavor , my viewpoint gets controlled.
The dust formed on the old notebooks rises as she pats them twice. The curiosity to go back in time and remember the innocent days filled her up. Holding her coffee mug, she carefully takes baby steps. The trance-filled thoughts made her fill the coffee cup to brim.
How easily can a person lose balance, she started to wonder. The photographs, the random smiles, the embarrassing moments that are perpetually embossed in time just remain as a witness to the decisions we made. Did we actually grow up? Di...
He said •
She said •
You deserve the absolute truth. Try not to give their sweet words a chance to befuddle you. Try not to let their "I require my space" demeanor trap you into believing that they are the more grounded ones.
They will give you grounds to stay yet would talk to you only when they determine the time. They want to have “those kind of conversations” with you, however, are afraid to commit to a proper relationship. They might apply their past as a justification or a cause for them not opening up, but rather need to know every little thing about you. They need you to be honest and the minute you are, they will take two steps backward and influence you to feel regretful.
Does the snow give you direction or hide all dimensions?
Does the spring gift you flowers or give you reasons to break the petals?
Does the summer burn your mistakes or teach you a lesson?
Does the monsoon wash away your kisses or make you fall in love again?
I hope you will still be there waiting for me.
I have three more oceans to swim.
Don’t lose hope.
I will find you soon.
Every habit eventually comes to an end .
Soon you will no longer be missed or cherished.
You will no longer exist.
And, there shall no longer be us.
Still, forever must live long.
It’s 11:38 a.m., which means there only 22 minutes left for noon - a change of time. How many of us have witnessed the change from a.m. to p.m.? How many of us actually pay attention to small things happening around?
Maybe we just don’t focus on certain things. It’s like breathing - its important, yet we really don’t pay attention to the whole process.
I am sitting by the window which is half covered in fog, mist, raindrops; everything that explains the transition of snow. I wonder if that’s what life is truly about - transitioning from one emotion to another. Immediately I feel foolish for even attempting to crack life’s code. As I shift from one thought to another, I bend down to ...
The duality of forgiveness will surround you. The mocking whispers will catch your attention at odd times. The fear and angst will enter your mood zone like a bolt of lightening- flashing at all your flaws and humiliating moments that you were endeavoring to stow away. The stars and the rays of the sun will confuse you with their theories on time.
This is not a good enough explanation for you to surrender.
Because, there will be many more sleepless nights and days that will pass in the slowest of the slow motion.
There will be more than one Valentine’s day that you will celebrate/ burn through alone.
All things considered, still it is no time to surrender.
Don’t give up on y...
That’s because you and I are different.
- Priya Yanambaka
You always have a choice
•Choose to heal and not leave your wounds open
•Choose to sing a song of joy and
•Choose to stay focused and not wander off trying to convince yourself of superficial things
•Choose to embrace yourself and
not wait for someone else to do it
•Choose to dance in the rain and
not bother who’s watching
•Choose to love and not be afraid of heartbreaks
•Choose to give yourself a second chance and not wait for others’ forgiveness
•Choose to believe and not wait for someone else to convince you
•Choose to be a leader and not a blind follower
•Choose to be you and not be a shadow
•Choose to respect yourself
•Choose to live ...
|| I am an unread library,
filled with stories...
Each one holding some power,
You have to read each page
before you judge the beginning
or the ending. ||
- Priya Yanambaka
As the days pass by, you will feel like your reality is essentially being dragged. People, their selection of words, their reactions and responses will just reflect how much of a burden you are. Their behavior will make you question your own. You will end up asking yourself as to how, why and when you should behave.
Figure out how to feel free. Not just in a therapeutic way, limited to a 30 day challenge, but in a real way. So real, that the magnitude of your freedom is felt by them. Let go of the thoughts that suffocate you in the pool of cynicism. Let go of people who are not of much help to you. It doesn’t matter if you had a breakdown at a café. It doesn’t matter if your first date w...
They will give you a reasonable amount of excuses to doubt your capabilities. You will be gifted with sleepless nights, making you wonder if you truly deserve to live or survive. The antagonism will surround you regardless of their words, (advises and suggestions), being given to you independent of your permission. You will be constantly helped to remember your failures and how they helped you conquer them. You will be constantly reminded that they were so incredible to pardon you for each startling activity of yours. They will successfully place every side of your character in the character fault department. They will ensure that you demonstrate them an appreciation for tolera...
Are you better than love?
carefully designing passion,
while the world is busy,
indulging in the schemes.
I saw you. Grabbing that mask from the table in a hurry, wearing it on and smiling beneath. I wonder if you ever get weary of this routine. I wonder if you will ever forget your real self. This propensity that you have formed, is it because of me? So many questions. So many excuses.
And I didn’t even realize that it was time for me to go back home- a place where I let my loneliness wander aimlessly. Possibly I should invite you. Possibly no. You probably lack the skill to understand the limitation that space offers sometimes. Your other ...
You promised to love.
You promised to take care.
Time has changed and so have the places we travelled before.
Tonight we are miles apart; where I am forced to embrace the darkness and search for an inspiration and you have been gifted sunshine that you squander with such comfort.
I lay here counting the stars hoping that they might lead me to you.
‘Where are you?’ is the question I keep asking for every time I turn on the screen on my phone, I see another refresh of your story but you lose your strength to reply to mine.
The words you use in the name of captions reflect your faith in love, yet you had the audacity to break my heart.
After all these moments that drag ...
Maybe we should have never spoken.
I was living. No, I was surviving.
But I was happy
Knowing that I was touching the shades of life, alone.
I was comfortable, slipping from one white world to another
Because I owned them both.
I didn't want to share my heartbeats,
I didn't want to share my silence,
Not my dreams of being loved,
Till the day I heard your voice.
I shouldn't have shared my heartbeats
I shouldn’t have shared my silence,
Not my dreams of being loved,
Oh, the day we spoke to each other.
It should never have been!
Her exclusive confession that can set you free,
Her lone confidence that can spare your savage purity,
Staged on this territory
Like an uncertain tempest,
Which understands no end.
All scattered there and here,
Waiting to be picked up by you and me,
This is simply a depiction of the peace existing between us- a random mistake.
So, let’s just start at the place where she stopped breathing.
And wait for her essence.
That will twist the walls holding us inside point .
Along with our confessions,
To help us walk outside - maybe not free,
But with an illusion, that we at least trie...
My soul stands tarnished on this snowy land,
As I’ve been cold and naked,
Battling the mockery and judgments around,
When these illuminated structures that grow on enterprises -unclear,
Communicate a message of your return,
Once again, I am here questioning your frantic moves,
Searching for one organic explanation,
With uncertainties glowing,
I am that punctuation,
Placed by this universe,
As a propensity,
And not by purpose,
For, years have passed now,
I am still drowning knee-deep into the snowfall in the driveway,
Desiring for the warmth of the summer,
To visit me in my fantasies,
As soon as the town sleeps,
Unaware of my shameful presence,
While it m...
How blessed I am,
For all the honesty that encompasses me,
An evening of adventure,
A day of examination,
All wrapping me with their gray shades like a gift, And instead of treasuring the opportunity to discover philosophy,
I remain here struggling to tear apart the sheets covering me,
To uncover the imagination - One that holds so much power,
A resolution promised by the universe, To bring me back to reality- A measurement that no longer exists.
You gazed at my appearance as if it were your first time. And I gazed back ; hoping you would recall.
If only you could contemplate the random behavior I now portray after cleaning up the manifestations you left behind; we would have defined the methods of togetherness, once again .
She listened calmly; an art mastered over the years. Yet, She was hunting down comfort among the small elements of nature which lay scattered in and around her territory.
The telephone call kept going longer than anticipated. The elaboration of every detail took her by surprise. The peculiar voice on the other end was none other than her conscience and today was supposed to be no different.
The flowers Of Misfortune •
It is not easy to let go. Not after holding all of the moments so dear to your heart.You cannot even contemplate what is worth treasuring or worth throwing away, because the beginnings and the endings all begin to possess the same definition. This act, by all means, has the capacity to paralyze you with its excruciatingly painful effects. This is when you initiate retaliation, by embracing the antagonism offered from outrage and shame.
But do you ask yourself, just for a single moment, whether this disillusionment and chagrin is the only way to balance departure and vulnerability?
Maybe; or maybe not.
Don't forget that the world loves to remember and repeat...
There lay a thousand experiences motionless. The misty secrets, the blushing affairs, everything came to a halt. Nothing felt this real ever before. Their world finally found a way to seperate itself from preposterous dreams.
It was time.
Such is the mystery of crumpled sheets.
All tangled into one desire, hiding beneath the glistening stars, yet conveniently fixed at the very edge of the first beam of daylight.
A routine of hiding and seek, played by two misplaced hearts.
She yearned for some space to synthesize all the changes surrounding her. The divorce, the custody, losing her closest companion to cancer. It wasn’t easy; it never was. Although, for the world, she shouldn't get influenced by these good and bad times of life' as they called them to silence the anguish inside her.
She spent hours gazing at the snow as it continued to accumulate on the ground, crafting layers of magnificence and peacefulness. At least, that is the manner in which she wanted to depict it. It meant something, watching the white drops randomly fall and in the process illuminate the neighborhood like it’s Christmas . In a way, it felt like the season was giving her company.
Nobody understands denial. That really is the best part. I think this is one of the rarest terms that truly legitimizes its name with the feelings one encounters. This realization begins and ends with just one individual. Agree or not, everyone is trying to claim ignorance in ways that are effectively misconstrued by the rest of us. The conflicting moments that linger around and refuse to blur away with time, the accusations and explanations that that request the greater part of the vitality one holds can overpower however nobody is truly proficient at verbalizing their sentiments. Language is the best blessing to humanity, yet we choose to believe that silence is a method of quality. At t...