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Dianali Apr 15
I am comprised of
endless assumptions,
and small superstitions.
Keeper of traditions,
hoarder of
memory-shaped
trinkets,
deep feelings
and thoughts.
A non-professional
curator of
favourite places and
favourite songs.
I have my mother's
sweetheart warmth,
her tender disposition,
My father's
charming wit,
and noble spirit,
My sister's
chaotic fierceness,
and her incredible
resilience;
Probably,
some other
relative’s eyes too.
I guess after all,

I’m truly just  

A family’s child.
A random collage
Dianali Apr 15
It’s so messed up that every lover
I ever entertained,
After the hurricane of you,
Had to carry an unfair ungodly tax—
The burden of your pain.
Crashing soul-markets,
Until I fully exorcised
The sole idea of your existence.
Thank God you fully exited my body—
For It wasn’t sustainable
In any lover’s economy.
I was going bankrupt babe
Dianali Apr 14
And I’m going to make you
so much of a memory,
That you’ll be more of a myth.
Linked somehow,
to the subtle pain
woven in
some parts of my voice.
Barely noticeable,
yet still lingering there.
Legend has it,
every now and then,
just between the happiest
and saddest
words I say,
If you listen carefully,
I’m just
Whispering your name.
A folk tale in my lore
Dianali Apr 13
Maybe no one would get my essence
Like I do. Even after many tries.
Is that pretentiously narcissistic?
or just deep self-awareness?
Dianali Apr 10
A word after more words,
Creates other dimensions.
Changing entire generations,
A whole new structure,
Built for different intentions.
Persuading,
Emotional expression,
trickier purposes —
Like old plain manipulation.
Of an individual,
Or perhaps a huge nation.
So take precautions.
As this is a cautionary tale.
Since you are building,
Each line of yours
can either shape or break.
After all,
Here,
we all are
What In my mind
I like to call:
“The World’s oldest Architects”
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