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taranpreetkalra
18 Books, Music and Writing are my escape. / I strive to be better than who I was yesterday. / Live more in my head than the world. / Nyctophile. / Longer write-ups on Instagram (@taranpreetkalra).
petals teardrops snowflakes rain stars tides eyelids time shadows leaves the sun and I, for you
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May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 6:02 AM UTC
things that fall
Mirror mirror On the wall Who's the fairest Of them all? Not you Mirror mirror On the wall Who's the one About to fall? You are I shatter the mirror And use the shards To bleed the memories From my skin Mirror mirror On the wall You pushed me Off the cliff so tall You deserved it
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May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 5:59 AM UTC
Mirror Mirror
I worry For the unmoving mountain Unable to move an inch In the midst of an earthquake. The shaking ground Does not mean to destroy it But it cannot be helped When some things Are just so obstinate. They must survive Or crumble. The earth is changing beneath us all. When the dust has settled, Nothing will ever be the same. Fall apart or carry on.
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May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 5:59 AM UTC
Fall Apart or Carry On
He told me, "You are a coincidence that looks like destiny." I told him, "You are a déjà vu that looks like a memory." They told us, "You are a dream that looked like reality."
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May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 5:57 AM UTC
ill(us)ion
I'm tired. Tired of everything. I just want to sleep, And never wake up again. No, I'm not lazy, I'm not running away from life. I'm just tired of the world and myself, And too tired to change anything.
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May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 1:01 AM UTC
Tired
Mosul streets I walk, Blood on every corner, Innocence dead and lost, Somebody please take me away. This warzone has become, A hell too much to bear, There is no life for some, While others die in despair. Mosul streets I walk, Counting bodies on the path, There is no end to this gore, No point in keeping false hopes.
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May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC
Mosul Streets
My head knocks against the stars. My feet are on the hilltops. My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of universal life. Down in the sounding foam of primal things I reach my hands and play with pebbles of destiny. I have been to hell and back many times. I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God. I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible. I know the passionate seizure of beauty And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs reading "Keep Off." My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive in the universe.
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May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 5:20 PM UTC
Who Am I?
I don’t know where to begin, where to start, or where to end and where to stop. I don’t know how to tell you what’s on my mind. There are so many words missing, words I can’t find. Because my mind is a warzone, it is a battlefield. And my shield is broken and my weapons are blunt. There’s nothing and no one to protect me in a war against myself. I scream and I scream, and my skin, my voice bleed and I hope I wake up and it’ll all just be a dream. But it’s not, it seems. I feel shunned though I have been told I’m loved, and that those ***** around me, who surround me love me. But I find it hard to believe it now. Time flies so fast for me or does it stand still, I don’t know. Minutes to hours, hours to days. And it’s getting difficult for me to see beyond the fog that clouds my thoughts, my eyes. So I put on a mask And do the impossible task Of waking up every day as I struggle to put on the play. But the problem never goes away. I slowly start shutting myself out from people, stop going to places that are crowded all the while enjoying being shrouded in the dark of my room. I feel doomed. I don’t like to cook, I don’t feel like reading a book. All satisfaction is gone and I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t enjoy the things I used to. There’s no purpose for me, I feel. No motivation. Everything is just white noise. Everything is static. So I stand here now, tired and weary, at a path so dark and dreary leading to different directions, all the while thinking I don’t want to exist anymore.
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May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 5:14 PM UTC
Depression
I don’t know where to begin, where to start, or where to end and where to stop. I don’t know how to tell you what’s on my mind. There are so many words missing, words I can’t find. Because my mind is a warzone, it is a battlefield. And my shield is broken and my weapons are blunt. There’s nothing and no one to protect me in a war against myself. I scream and I scream, and my skin, my voice bleed and I hope I wake up and it’ll all just be a dream. But it’s not, it seems. I feel shunned though I have been told I’m loved, and that those ***** around me, who surround me love me. But I find it hard to believe it now. Time flies so fast for me or does it stand still, I don’t know. Minutes to hours, hours to days. And it’s getting difficult for me to see beyond the fog that clouds my thoughts, my eyes. So I put on a mask And do the impossible task Of waking up every day as I struggle to put on the play. But the problem never goes away. I slowly start shutting myself out from people, stop going to places that are crowded all the while enjoying being shrouded in the dark of my room. I feel doomed. I don’t like to cook, I don’t feel like reading a book. All satisfaction is gone and I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t enjoy the things I used to. There’s no purpose for me, I feel. No motivation. Everything is just white noise. Everything is static. So I stand here now, tired and weary, at a path so dark and dreary leading to different directions, all the while thinking I don’t want to exist anymore.
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43
I sit in my chair, And look up at the ceiling, Tears stroll down my eyes, Heart filled with old feelings. With my forefinger, I flick away the tears, Sigh into the air, But there is still some fear. I do not know how this all came to be, Everything was good, Together, We were happy. Now all there's left, Is memories and heartache, How could you be so cruel? Throwing me down into the tarmac. I still wish you were here, Holding me tight, Creating a calm I do not remember, I still wish you stayed the night, Did not leave me alone, As we crept into a deep slumber. Forgetting the promises, You trod on your way, Making me doubt whatever we had, Was a dream, An almost something.
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May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 4:55 PM UTC
An Almost Something