It’s inexplicable.
No words ever written can do it justice.
No poem can make it rhyme.
The coarse journey.
The blatant trial.
Nothing a metaphor worth a dime.
Agony lived.
Sour felt.
Warmth endured.
Silence dwelt.
All in the name of the hate after love.
Go ahead pen your story. Tear it up. Write it again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. Until the past pours out from your very being.
 | mitchellez on She’s So Ugly |
| mitchellez on She’s So Ugly |
 | Assurance Aigbodion on Happy Birthday Handsome |
 | Estelle Haward on She’s So Ugly |
| mitchellez on Happy Birthday Handsome |
i write in the hope that someone listens
I Bleed Words Sometimes
Here's me.
transcribed by Suezelle
Strange, unusual, rare; marvellous world invented by me. Fantasy or not, you decide.
My scribbles
The Desert Diaries by Adrine D'mello
Thought Catalog is a digital youth culture magazine dedicated to your stories and ideas.
And in the end the love you take, is equal to the love you make. -- The Beatles
My musings, writings, photography & friendship shared on WordPress.com site
Poetry, story and real life.
Writings from the dark side of life!
Writing from the vein
My modern-day Pensieve.
More than a homemaker, less than a traveller.
Always find a way to live your dream!
Random Random and Random!
Puns - Intended. Oxymorons - NOT. Morons - Not at all
And as you lay there, writhing and shivering and kicking and screaming, I’d hold you close, I’d push the hair out of your eyes, of your screaming agape mouth..in hopes, you let the past pour out from your very being. (Sorry, could not resist writing this for you)
Beautiful.
March 16, 2013 at 11:23 am
Rajeev this is beautiful. It means a lot. Thank you. š
March 16, 2013 at 11:28 am
You are my inhalation, I own few web logs and often run out from post :). “Yet do I fear thy nature It is too full o’ the milk of human kindness.” by William Shakespeare.
March 22, 2013 at 4:57 am