for the wounds we keep poking
hearts that do not stop breaking for the fools who refuse to learn the loved ones living in an urn for all the love and unsaid sacrifices a mother’s love and her compromises for bedtime stories and goodnight kisses a father’s story from rags to riches for a glimpse that made you fall the same that made you love alcohol for all the dreams that are unfulfilled the innocent victims of war who get killed for all the seasons that we live through the sun, the moon and the dove’s coo for the sands, stones and the oceans every unsaid word and unfelt emotions for white, pink and all the colours music, books, poems and flowers for everything great and trivial a poem for everyone sad and jovial for things living and non-living for loving, giving and forgiving.
It’s really been so quiet.
Can I hear your voice? I’m tired of being strong, wish I had another choice. It’s really been so dark. Can I feel your light? I’m tired of being fine, wish you were still mine. It’s really been so awful. Can you heal my wounds? I’m tired of being alone. Wish I could move on. —-Poetry by Paras
I'm on the edge.
I'm on the edge. So many edges. . . . with no chasms . . . . . . . . . no freefall . . . . I have crossed. Overcome? Where is my chasm? "hurt" "betrayal" "pain, just pain" I have overcome. Where is my chasm? "fatality" "silence" "peace" No chasm, No edge. Nothing. Kaydee.
So many bruises. So many wounds.
Bruises with bruises. Wounds with wounds.
I was there when he broke your heart,
Like a savage,tore it into tiny parts, A bit here, a bit there, Scattered into shards everywhere. I saw you bleeding with sorrow, As if there was no tomorrow. I am sorry I could not help you heal your wounds, For I had not come around, I too, was bleeding, In pain writhing, He had left me too, In pieces I am still unable to sew.
See the sky changes it's colors ?
from pitch black in night, and blue on a day so bright ? All is Beautiful. See the flowers bloom ? And hear the birds sing ? I know, All is Beautiful. See the wounds from a battle ? See it now all scarred ? Painful but all is beautiful. See our heart breaks ? See our hardships through it ? Unbelievable but all is beautiful. feel my love ? feel it even though i'm far ? It is Beautiful. feel your love ? i can't because to me, you're not in love But All is Beautiful.
every single thing is beautiful
whether it looks messy it looks unappealing even it hurts remember, all is beautiful
I hear the cry in your eyes
I feel your longing for peace Am I as helpless as I fear you think I am? If three syllables could move this mountain, I’d scream it out loud, mending our wounds, Yours a worried soul, Mine a unsettled heart. <c.h.b.>
With a heavy heart, I sit here next to my grandmother, as she doesn’t want to be where she is now.
It’s still there
The void inside Dark and cavernous Ready to draw me down I thought I had dealt with this But I just papered it over Trying to be normal Trying to survive It doesn’t take much To bust it open To send me running Looking to hide There seems no end To the grief I hold It carries me with it Lost and out of control It’s not your fault It was there before Wounds from my past Which have emptied me out It’s time to face it Go deep and howl Let the sorrows out Let the torrents flow Surrendering thus The endless waters calm And in this moment The light of love shines through Cold and wintery the light Penetrates my heart I smile as I realize I will always love you
I find endings hard...
if he needed me in that instance
and i am nowhere to be found. could i be back at that exact time to be with him ? if he had left me and i am hurt, i am wounded. would it heal ? if he died at that sudden time and i can't breathe anymore too. can i live again ? you answered, " Time heals all wounds, no matter how deep it is. " i do not believe you, the emptiness in mine wouldn't be filled again. not without him.
not these wounds.
not these bruises and slashes. i'll just accept that from now on, i am scarred.
My feelings etch the page
With each tear that falls from my face The pictures form From the blood pooling out of the cuts on my hands How was I supposed to know you would break me? Or that my own pieces would cut me? I just wanted to put them back together So I didn't feel so empty So I could be whole again
Some woundes can’t be healed with love.
Especially those which were made by the hands of anger.