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 Dec 2019 Zack Ripley
Meera
Poetry
 Dec 2019 Zack Ripley
Meera
Some poets write with pen
And others with pain
Just a random thought...
 Dec 2019 Zack Ripley
Meera
Love her like she’s the only girl in the world.
Make her your top-most priority. When you’re awake, think of her. When you’re asleep dream of her. Drink in her beauty even if it’s venomous
Eat up all her words even if they hurt Breathe in her scent even when she’s stinking.
Let the love for her grow on you till your mind is full of her thoughts and your sketch book is full of her portraits.

Paint her scars beautifully with vibrant colors.
Get her name tattooed on your heart. When she strolls in the darkness, wander along.
When she falls down, lie down with her and stare at the night sky.
See the world through her eyes

Hold her hands when she is cold. Embrace her when she is scared.
Kiss her tears when she cries and become the reason behind her smile.


Don’t try to plaster her wounds.
Don’t try to pull her out of her miseries.
Instead, accept her the way she is- scathed and destroyed.

Be ready to kiss her good night at 3 a.m. ‘cause tormented souls like her can’t sleep earlier.

Pour all her insecurities, sorrows and grieves in a wine glass
and gulp them down in one go because that’s all she has to offer you. Emotions are like wine anyway, both get stronger with time.


Struggling with the pieces of her, you might lose your sanity.  
Loving her might be difficult, suffocating and disturbing at times but don’t give up on her so easily.


Soon, you’ll know why hurricanes are named after people.
Thanks for reading this.
 Dec 2019 Zack Ripley
Meera
There are these two words
TOXIC and INTOXICATING
And LOVE
Is both of them
 Dec 2019 Zack Ripley
Meera
She looks like heaven
And tastes like hell
 Dec 2019 Zack Ripley
Meera
Moon
 Dec 2019 Zack Ripley
Meera
You used to call me your Moon
And that wasn't a lie
I was your Moon
And she was your Sun
The moon is nothing but a cold rock which reflects sun's light in its absence
 Dec 2019 Zack Ripley
Keiri
On a winter's day
With a summer's mind
In a sky so grey
The pessimistic kind.
It's supposed to not make sense
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