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 Apr 2015 Gul e Dawoodi
Rose
The thing is
I wouldn't blame her
If she grew up hating me
For staying how I am
I too find myself
Intolerable
Yet
Desirable
And
Impossible to learn from

Can't go a moment without saying
I am madly in love with all she is
And could be
But won't be
Because she and I both know
You can't please every need

Becoming who I am to you
Has made all the things I was to me
So minuscule
My life is now for giving thanks

Your happiness
Is everything
To me
 Apr 2015 Gul e Dawoodi
Xyns
I need someone to play the game
Someone to numb this pain
Someone to keep me sane


You, my friend, seem just right
I'd like to make you mine by tonight


I need someone to lead me on
Someone to be less alone
Someone to help me move on


You, my friend, seem just right
I like the way you make me feel alright


I want someone to shake me up
Someone new to change things up
Someone to keep my chin up


*You, my friend, you will do
I think that I want someone just like you
 Apr 2015 Gul e Dawoodi
Nandini
She shook
Ever so slightly
Trembled and
Fumbled along
A single tear
Rolled down
Her cheeks
They didn't know
She was hurt
They didn't
The turmoil she felt
Inside of her
All they knew was
That even though
She had a sad family
She was the one to put smiles
On her lips , for them
Even if they were fake.
They will never know
What she went through
They will never know
The pain her tender
Heart had suffered
They will always think
What she made them think
She was the girl who smiled
The most.
The angels looked at me and whispered,
"No need to throw him in the Hell,
he already suffered a lot in his own
which he created or maybe the world did for him
but poor soul, look at all those burns."

I smiled at them for they did not know
my hell was my solace in the heaven
of the world.
Lavenders.
I looked at them and wondered
if I could ever touch them.
Lavenders.
I sigh
for they remind me of you.
Self given scars
do not sing the songs
of one's glory
yet
only of the
cowardliness.
And I was once a coward.
Isn't
Numbness,
a feeling?
For..
You
are
supposed
to
not
feel
anything.*

(Or not)
This is the worst part of my depression.
 Apr 2015 Gul e Dawoodi
Amanda
One of the bitter-as-burnt-toast kind of things in the world is when a writer's (1) book remains empty for a time where even their clock ceased
ticking."

{She used to write in the way flowers needed a cold snap before they could bloom.}
Footnote (1) The kind of writer that wrote to give her lungs a break.
Hello you, you & you! I have missed writing on friday nights.
I hope you are all well.
x
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