Wilted Words

"don't worry you'll be okay, a few months from now non of this will matter" but what about now? what about the fact that it's been months and everything is still the same? unfazed by the passing of time. unaffected by any of the forces that washed over it? but pain isn't a polite guest. it's not the kind of visitors that would leave when it's unwanted. you ignore its presence and ask it to leave quietly, you scream and cry your eyes out, your heart ripping to shred as you beg and plead your pain to go, your body drained from all the effort of kicking it out. but it doesn't even budge. you barely scratch the surface, barely snatch the lid, because every time you chicken out, you almost dare to peek at your sorrows, although, you don't know what it looks like or how big it is and it horrifies you. you're scared that it will swallow you. so you postpone your pain, you pile it up, and bury it inside, neglecting the horror of its ...

On an ordinary day, on a paved blunt wide street with no features, at that time of the day when the world expresses its hatred towards human kind, and they passed on hatred to everything around. I beheld a spangles stone, shining on far away on the other side, as the seams of this mundane scene blurred into each other, and the noise from my surroundings merged with the one inside, I caught a glimpse of its color, that's when a spark of curiosity ignited, it was enough to set a dazzling fire, catching my attention, leading me right to it, I walked all the way, to see what it really was, despite my lack of knowledge, I know it's more than just a stone, I saw it in the way it reflects light, the way it shone, being this close quickened my heart, involuntarily I touch it, distorted and bulged, deformed and defaced. yet beautiful and charming, not the kind of beautiful that anyone would understa...

When you fall in love with someone you grant yourself many things, you claim these things to be yours, a right that you'd demand no matter what. the sweet pleasure of losing yourself in their mind. caressing their blossoming souls, taking long walks there whenever you want without the fear of losing your way. like obtaining their hearts, earning their love, and being worth their time. like becoming the reason they wake with a lazy smile and they sleep soundly without nightmares. you want their secrets to become yours, you want your self to merge with them, so you'd become one inseparable entity. you crashed into each other and it doesn't destroy you, on the contrary, it builds you both up again. when you're in love, you get to experience the magnificence of wandering through someone's secret gardens, the ones they built and hid away from everyone, a place that soon will be your own shelter. a destination that you stumbled upon, a coincidence that turned out...

He was perfect. Not in the sense of having a sculpted body, a flawless golden hair, or a pair or soulful piercing eyes. Not in the sense of always saying the right thing at the right time Not in the sense of doing the right thing at the right time. But he was perfect.. He was perfect because his clumsy words made me swoon, they made my heart beat faster, and inhibited my mind for days, settling there for longer than they should. because somehow, I never felt the need to explain myself to him, to teach him who I was and how to deal with me. He was perfect because despite of his calmness and maturity he made a fool out of himself sometimes just to make me laugh. because talking to him was like a an inside monologue, except million times better. I exposed my thoughts and not for once, I feared judgement or being misunderstood. and I liked staring at him, because I saw him  for what he was, flawed, vulnerable and completely human. and that made him perfect. the way his s...

We all are looking for something. That one thing, that will make things fall into place and everything will finally start making sense, even complete. you find it in the strangest places, without searching for it, you technically stumble upon it. you find it between the folds of a random book, in a melody of a certain song, or beating in someone's chest. you find it in a stranger's words or in the company of someone you know. ... you find it in the clarity of a moment of mere solitude, or the bustle of the crowd your trying to make your way through. and if you wonder how or where or when or who, stop asking all these questions. don't exhaust yourself for what you won't find by systemic or rational seeking. but I assure you that when it passes by, you will know. and that's the perplexing beauty of it.