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Amelie

In a cinderblock bathroom an hour’s bus ride out of the inner-city, there’s a full-length aluminum mirror hanging by two screws. Unrelenting rain pounded on the roof as a girl, twelve, peered into it. Her arms shook, weak from the exhaustion of pulling her way up cliffs. Amelie was on a hiking field trip with her quirky charter school, who believed that traipsing through forests during a spring rain storm was more of a teacher than a chalkboard. The laces of her only pair of tennis shoes lay untied, dripping with mud, but her fingers had grown too icy in the rain to tie them up again. The hem of her jeans was torn where another student had stepped on it while Amelie helped them up a ledge. Her only jacket was dripping onto the floor and torn in several places from burrs and the scrapes of passing sticks. Luckily, Amelie’s shirt was unharmed, but was too flimsy to stop the creep of cold from chilling her to the bone. Her stringy curls would certainly take hours to untangle. Amelie shivered, and looked into her own eyes. Truly the star of the entire appearance was Amelie’s wide grin and the bright, wild look in her eyes that only true adventure could bring.

Forever Writing,

quill rose

● The fact is, we often fail from the aspect of our greatest humanistic ability to build, communicate, and comprehend through the languages we build, only when a single line of a poetry or a simple muse, explain and understand us in such a perfectly satisfying way, that we couldn't ever do in all these years.●

Out of all people, I fell in love with you,

isn't that divine, sweetheart?💫

☆~Does the universe create a Supernova, when somewhere lightyears away in a planet, its child fall apart and the sadness inside her, break and collide with each other? When the memories burst her heart inside and out, do the stars collide with each other there too,creating a black hole, resembling the void inside her? Or has it been eternally resilent? For I've felt the stardusts in my lungs everytime I cry.☆~

Don't you know jealousy, is a kind of pain? A pain, of not being enough?

🍀We can't keep expecting anyone else, to fill up a void created by someone else, in our heart. We can't replace other people to numb our own pain. We don't possess the right to pass on our pain to others.

People who were there, had sculptured themselves, curved and crafted their unique shapes in our hearts. Now, when the sculptures are gone, it leaves nothing but those crafted scars behind. We can't force any other artpiece into the box of a specifically crafted void.

Instead, why don't we try to find our buried selves into the crafted scars? Why don't we breathe through the voids created by them? When theres nothing left to save, let us relish the freedom.🍀

◆Little did I know, some things never change..

•Picture credit: pinterest

But oh!... if it's you, I would never mind losing myself into your hands eternally or for a thousand times, and putting my heart away in every pieces and pieces and present them in front of you to play with.

🌸Please, don't let this be me, let this be you.

For the last time, let it be you going away far. Don't make the destruction seem to be caused by me. Don't make me blame myself again. Don't change me. Don't make me regret for loving people. Don't seize me from falling in love again.🌸

Running:

I wanna run with you, cutting through dense mushy canopies of leaves and forests, beating the fear of legends, dancing with the wolves, or through the cold ancient corridors of an abandoned castle, leaving the rebellion secrets whispered from the rusted balconies to our ear, behind us. Maybe on the other side of the world, a wonderland paradise 'lost', through the breezy cornfields through the childhood we left behind, anywhere far far away. I never want to stop running with you, let us beat the pace of time for we will go beyond and beyond whatever is seen, the universe, the moon, nebulas, clusters and oort clouds, through the dark matters, never here.

I've known you for long. Before you were there. I knew it would be you, always, when you made me explore myself, when you soared me up higher than an eagle, and discovered a divinity of me I never knew was there.

🌸Youth fades fast, breaking me more than anything else when I realize it passed before I could feel it, and not much is left to have peace for. It feels as if I've already lived a half a part of my life in these teenage years.🌸

🌸No, keeping you as my favorite prisoner will never satisfy me. If I ever grant you freedom, I know you'll run far far away from me. You'll never come back in my arms, saying you loved it, being isolated with me.🌸

🌸That's the power of mine that I often question about. The unrealistic enchantment within myself, I can fall in love with everything.

I know, how effortlessly I can fall in love with almost anything, alive or not. Even when I'm in a prison, as time passes by, I would turn it into a temple.

Does it certainly makes me one of them? When I give rest to the monsters of the world, the weirds, the unusual, the madman,broken and bullied one finds peace within me and I, be a shelter to the loneliest beings treated the worst?

Why do I crave the smell of sadness, broken people? Why theres always a worn out rose for me? Do I deserve this? Or am I suppose to turn the beast into a prince?🌸

• PC Credit : Pinterest

☆☆ It certainly makes me nostalgic,when I know how young I was when I realized it's not easy living here, and I transcended from living to surviving.

It certainly makes me unhappy, the person I see when I look to the mirror. She disappoints me more than people.

It certainly makes me brutal, how it's me, who knows every weakness about myself, yet turns them against me. Instead of delicate consolidations it burns me, with my flaws. ☆☆

•PC CREDIT: PINTEREST•

We were unknown, but we were familiar

With each other,

Since some other life.

🌟Sometimes I'm scared of how

I deny the reality and live inside my head, in the most comfortable corner I've created despite the darkness.

How complex and detailed view are there in my mind about everything I see. I'm scared to be different. Scared to fight with almost everything that's against me. One pain of being different is the fear of being lonely. But the urge never stops itself.

Sometimes I'm scared, I see I'm turning into something I shouldn't. And the scariest thing is, no one ever notices how, a complete stranger from inside, is walking around wearing the old, acquinted shell of their very own girl.

🌸 You're not in the track, when you think you clinging with me will make you something more than my acquaintances. Where I don't grow, where I don't flourish, where there is lack of personality and intellect, I leave. I won't hurt you with the truth, I won't shut the door over you without giving you a peek about me and forgetting that you like me in the first place. I love, I pay back, but I'll pursue gestures that will show you instances of where we're not togather and your self respect still remains. I may avoid you, normalize you from something special, and you won't realize where the bondings are going loose. Eventually it will hurt you less, because I'll make you forget me.🌸

You're my star, during my night🌟

But sometimes, you're too bright,

For me. :(

I can't engulf all your charms,

fading my own pale ones. 🌸

Create a captivating paradox of perfectly put imperfections of you,

while narrating yourself. 😊

|| June 18 ; 2022 ||

💮 Taking a chance to look back at the same time in the mid June an year ago, when this was the exact time I was wishing for an undo button for myself and was regretting my vulnerability. There was this strange utopian wish to turn everything upside down, and cursing undecisiveness, but here I am, an year later in this exact same date, sitting and chilling with monsoon. Though it's no better, but I believe I survived, all by myself, where I didn't have that hope to create my uncertain future anymore then, that I'm ambitious of creating this year, this time.💮

💮 It's okay to feel unsatisfied with what you love. We necessarily and unnecessarily grow. When it doesn't feel the best of you, you know you're turning better and better.💮

💮 Basically there are always opportunities, if "others" are not there.

• Picture Credit: Pinterest

💮 I've always had the best way with my words. I like the way they keep translating my own mind when my toungue is unable to speak out for me. Words have always been keeping me a step forward into presenting myself from being passive and existing in my life that I was forcibly given to.

They're always narrating and whispering those wispy tails of my mind to me. I would've never known how my life sounds like.They define me, describe me, they're always expressing the spalshes of my tears or the turbulent surge of emotions on behalf of me, with their only assurance to me that I'm not insane, or losing my mind.

They said that's what happens to humans when we live on our limitations, always.💮

💮I know I'm sane,

till the time death scares me.💮

•Picture credit : pinterest

🍁 Is it even quite possible for a human being, to completely stop living in the present? It's always been the future I'm programming inside myself, more like always living in the future.🍁

▪|Picture Credit : Pinterest|

🍁 Healing is also a form of acceptance. Only thing is, this acceptance ain't forced. No painful denial phases, no repression, it's assured. It's not dry hopeless. It will all heal one day. Maybe not today, not tomorrow, but it will at a time. And you'll still be young then. 🍁

▪| Picture credit: Pinterest |

💮Never have I tried to rewatch my past to narrate myself. I know it's a mess, it's random, but I can feel it something beautiful. Everything fall in place just like a story. Sometimes I welcome the circumstances which fall in place. I watch, suffer, break, but never intend to mess with the sequence. The mishappenings seems beautiful in a chaotic way, and perfectly put. I think, 'Won't be a nice storyline to narrate?'💮

|Picture Credit : Pinterest|

💮It is daring to love someone

the way you want love. The security,

The delicacy, the depth, in that

amount of love. Somebody gotta

be sure enough at first about not being judged

for insanity or for simply acting weird,

for decorating you with their tumbled pieces.💮

| Picture Credit - Pinterest |

"Not everything is about you"

💮 Such a statement, both a pain and and a peace. As you're growing older you realize you're actually not the centre of the universe. You actually now have to stand in the line of topics like just other people. Theres an intense ache inside your chest that now you know theres more like you, more without you. You knew it, but not exactly knew it in a level of accepting it about you unless you've heard it.

But you're blessed in a sense, you're now not the one entirely focused on. You're not the imagery of everything. You're not an idol, a symbol. You're ordinary, with no anxiety of being controversial for whatever you state. You can disappear, be yourself, isolate yourself, because you're one of the crowd, and people accept you as imperfect. People will judge, wonder, but you're not a trending topic. Isn't that less chaotic?💮

◆|Picture Credit : Pinterest |◆