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#wordsmatter
Just words These are just words. A storm in the distance Advancing with rage Escalating in time Take the power away. Just words. High pitch shriek Piercing ears Traveling the connection Between head and heart These are just words Spitting out the mouth Tornados Harmless breathe Butterfly wings flap Lethal turning. Just words Beauty that seems to fly from angry hands Beat the things Only supernaturally touched These are just words Hurled in a corner Knees to chest Just words Raging war Settling scores These are just words Tearing like paper Childhood taken Just words Target set to **** Bullet bursting These are just Words! Rivers flowing Shame imploding Just words. Regret for tomorrow Can't take back what stains These are just words Memories flicker Weight upon the shoulders Just words Empty, lifeless These are just words Nothing that can come to cut the heart To chain the soul. Destroy the life. Just words Repeat, repeat These are just words.......
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Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 7:46 AM UTC
Lifetime scars
When eyes turn into a mouth, and many mouths spell the same, they cook the scenery with spices and serve it to mankind. The superficial minds swallow it whole, but the deeper ones search through the flavours, tasting the raw truth beneath. They take the news across minds — bending it, twisting it, building it — giving it a new form, and pouring it into the pots of hollow heads. Not all rumours are just rumours; some are truths wrapped in uncertainty.
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Jul 19, 2025
Jul 19, 2025 at 9:20 AM UTC
THE RUMOURS - COOKED AND SERVED
A broken vase can never be fixed even glued. A torn page can never cover it's despatched appearance. Rifted paths can never passby again. Past that happened can never be changed. Occured loss can never be recovered. Likewise,hurting others with words or actions can never be healed with a mere sorry.
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Jul 17, 2025
Jul 17, 2025 at 9:27 AM UTC
Irreversible Scars
They call it pichi rathalu, a waste of ink and time. But they don’t see the tremble in my hands when I hold a pen, or the storm I quiet by pouring pain into lines. Each word I write is a cry I never screamed, a tear I never showed, a wound I stitched with syllables no one dared to read. They say, “Just study, forget all this.” But how do you forget what saved you? These writings— they aren’t just thoughts. They’re survival. They’re scars made beautiful. "Let Them Call It Madness" They call it pichi rathalu. They laugh. Say I’m wasting time. Say I should just focus on studies, like everyone else. But they don’t know. They don’t know these pages hold my pain— not drama, not attention-seeking. Real pain. The kind that keeps you up at 2 AM. The kind that chokes you when you're trying to smile. I write because if I don’t, I’ll explode. I write because it’s the only thing that listens without judgment. Because no one asked me, “What happened?” They just said, “Be strong.” “Move on.” “Stop being so emotional.” So I bleed on paper. That’s not madness. That’s survival. Let them call it anything. This— this is the only thing keeping me alive.
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May 30, 2025
May 30, 2025 at 9:16 AM UTC
Not just words
She moves fast like a city full of names, things to do, and places to be. No matter how fast she moves, there is always a spot for you. Regardless of where you go, not every woman, not every city, is the same. She highlights her personality, the buildings of her priorities, Her personalities, like dominos uncovered and placed strategically. The way she was raised, the not so pretty parts, Behind the well known parts of her, not necessarily put away. But still, there is a place for you. Whether it's a quiet night in, or an event organized to get to know each other better, the margins of her heart beat for you Between the counties. Although she moves fast, and one day with her varies from the next, she's not afraid to let you know that she's busy. Once she handles all of her business, be ready to catch up on all that missed time. But don't forget she doesn't just find the time to call or text. She shows up. You too are a part of her world
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Mar 9, 2025
Mar 9, 2025 at 3:33 PM UTC
Fast Like A City
She felt the weight of his words Even as she waved a hand to dismiss them Even as she smiled And rolled her eyes Even as she turned away Bounce-stepping down the hall She felt the full meaning of his words Crushing her into the ground Into dust © 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.
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Mar 3, 2025
Mar 3, 2025 at 9:14 AM UTC
His Words
Come fourth blooming seed Expose naked Satan's sin Let good fruit spring out .
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Mar 12, 2020
Mar 12, 2020 at 5:03 PM UTC
A Word