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Parnini Nov 2016
Dear Picture-in-my-head,

I wish I had you for my reality instead.



Your star spangled banners,

your dim faded lights,

that alan walker music

misty, misty night.



Him,

from the corner of eyesight

letting his frown drop,

asking me in. Our time.



An audacious vivacity,

the merry sliding down of unhinged desires.

A mating of intellectuality,

less of skinny lust, discarded mask and pride.



Wafting smell of earth drenched in season’s first rain,

halting words breaking the initial stranger pace.

Cups of ginger tea than ***** and ice,

living the moment than getting drowned in haze.



I could whisper my secret wishes -the one that involves a mountain top,

a leather jacket, bullet ride

an unfaltering speech – woman of the moment,

a potential done right.



You could tell me about that night you cried,

That misunderstood age

Your favourite cartoons,

And their funny ways.



We could draw the clouds on our palms,

The ones that compliment a picturgasmic sunset

Feel the lightness of solitude,

the sweetened somethings in the nothing.



The breeze would crash against me,

Before it hit you softly in the face,

And it would feel just right,

To let you have a bit of me this night.



It would be good, or even better;

but it’s just stuck in letters.

For it’s a trapped swansong – in a party with people I barely know,

and wouldn’t want to, at the end of the night.
(An ode to every uninspiring, dreadfully loud party with a stale company I’ve been to.)

(No) Love,

P.G.
Parnini Jun 2015
I am not beautiful...
        I am choked up tears, cover-up smiles
        the kind of light that turns you blind
        from having too less or more than enough.

I am not beautiful...
        I am scratched out scars, burnt out heart
        the kind of storm that wrecks up lives
        creeping stealthily through the night.

I am not beautiful...
        I am not your quintessential girl
        the kind that walks with a perfect stance
        swaying waist of 26" and pretty face all made up

I am not beautiful...
      I am edges and curves, messy hair and everything you *never
dreamt of
       The kind that repulses you by skin, and attracts you by mind
       Someone you'll never know because. . .


I am not beautiful.
Ok. So this is a tribute to all the girls out there who feel inferior in some way or the other to someone else because of their looks. Who crouch up infront of a mirror singling out every pimple, every scar, every curve of cellulite wishing em away.

No, I'm not going to say you're beautiful. I'm not going to say those girls you stalk on instagram and facebook are plastic dolls. I will say, it's okay. Its okay if you're not pretty. It's okay because at the end of the day there is always going to be someone better, smarter, kinder, prettier than you. Its okay because nobody has it all. Its okay because there are other things you have. You could be a writer, a poet, a dancer, a stand up comedian, a cartoonist... heck, anything!

The world these days is obsessed with made up faces. It categories humans into ugly and beautiful then says the only thing that's true is inner beauty. **** that. You don't need that. Its okay to be you. Being beautiful isn't everything. It's okay to be not beautiful.

Hugs and love,
P
Parnini Jan 2015
Put your head on my lap
Let me sing you a lullaby.
You've been awake through some nights
But there was a girl who went through few more
And in those moment you let your tears drop
She wrote herself a song.

I know you're broken,
I know you're sad,
But it will be over before you know;
Life's not about the crests, there will be troughs
Like a musical note.

It's dark now,
There's no one with you,
But at the end of the day we're all alone;
Be your own best friend, why do you pretend?
That we don't die alone.

Those teardrops on cheeks,
Glisten like pearl beads,
But the thing you're crying for doesn't deserve it;
You're worth more, than you know
So you might as well listen to me tell you how.

We've fallen, but we'll get back up,
Our failures don't define us.
We're broken, but we will heal
Else carry scars on our back with pride.
They can hit us once, not more than twice
We are not weak, just polite.
We'll fight for what's ours, not smile when we're dark inside,
We have hung enough of us for sacrifice.
And those double faced friends, relationships with dead ends,
Say them goodbye and make it end.

Just keep smiling, Sweetheart
You're better than your past,
There's more to life than war.
So don't give up!
If not today, tomorrow is ours,
If not better we're less worse.


2am,
I've got to go,
I'll visit you again, when you're alone
If not sweet dreams, may a sweet life wake you up
Sleep well, my love.
There are a lot of diseases and there are a lot of medicines being made for them. But there is one disease that has no cure made for it yet and is affects people widely - Broken heart. I have met many people in my life who are either sad, broken or depressed. The reasons are varied but they share one thing - pain, helplessness, loneliness. This one's for all of those broken people out there - Stay strong, someone loves you and if not, I do *hugs*
Parnini Jan 2015
My insides churned up in an inner turmoil
Thoughts jumbled and eyes grew moist
He looked, wide eyed full of hope at me
I stood there numb, wishing it was you with me.

My cheeks pale instead of rosy love
Scorning the man fate has written for me
Every little distance he inches,
I wish the distance was closing in between you and me.

His hands brushed against my knees
I struggle against this repulsion I feel for him
He's moving near, nearer; yet still far
He kissed my lips, but how do I remove the stains of your kiss on my heart?

Maybe it's in my mind, but he's using force
He senses I'm not with him in this act of love
His hands grow colder, he clutches tighter now
That moment he pulls me in, I let myself go.

I'm in this place I'm not supposed to be
You're sitting there looking at a framed photo of me
Your face is pale, you're thinking about us
I kneel down in front of you, you hold me close
Why didn't you try when there was still time?
What made you force me to say goodbye?
What made you choose your circumstances over me?
The society doesn't care, don't you see?

You mumble sorry and cry along with me
It's too late, we both can see


He's done with me, and I'm done with my daydream
He can sleep with my body, not with me
I'm still with you, when I'm with him
I'm still loving you, with him loving me.

**Forever yours.
Know those stray, scary thoughts? The ones when you see your man and are like what will happen if he's not the one you grow old with? What if..
I wrote this with the P.O.V. of someone who was forced to be with someone else but never could really forget the one she was, is, still in love with.
You're not the one
I'm sorry to say
You've been there
You love me
But it's not the same

You're not the one
He's out there
Somewhere waiting for me
Just to find him
That's the problem

You're not the one
I want you to be
But I can't make the impossible
A reality
So is life

You're not the one
I'm sorry darling
I love you
Hold me close
While you still can

You're not the one
But we can pretend
Just for a little while
I'll give myself to you
I know you'll take me

Even though you're not the one
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