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The unsent letters

 The letters never sent The love, unsaid, unread The feelings, unfelt, unmet, The tears, unrun, unfelt, the names, unsaid, the places, unwent the holes, unfilled the depths, unheard, unseen the colors, untouched, the patterns, unseen, the hollows, unsheen, Thank you for what you were Thank you for what you are Thank you for what I am For what I am, because you are!

To say or not to say. That is the question!

What do you do? Say it all out? Or keep it with you? That lingering fragrance of perfume in your hair. Those things which weren't said. Are they important? Would the charm go away if you poke too much? Or would you be exposed? Is it prettier this way? The shell? The shiny glittery shell of warmth, with cold underneath may be. Who knows? The things weren't said you see. Should we wait for the answers? Should we keep the charm and decorate our homes with it and let it be. Look at it with awe everyday. In the mirror, on how pretty and bold you are. So strong. Are you? Or is it a shell? Should I say? Should I not? Doesn't really matter. I'd just let it be.

Light beyond darkness

I sometimes think about it. About that precise moment when you lost courage, and the motivation to pull it through. How big that moment must have been for you. Or perhaps for me. May be you knew it all along. May be I did too. May be I didn't realise it. May be I couldn't bring myself to realise it. Or believe that it had come. That final moment where you'd give up. And I'd give in.  You see it wasn't a fight. How could I hold on when you'd given up. On me. On us. On everything we'd built together. A foundation of love and affection up into smoke. Just like that. That precise moment when you could see the light beyond darkness. And I was too ignorant to even open my eyes.

Crossing Bridges

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And what do you do When you reach the other side To only realize, That it was just a tide. May be the choice was wrong Or your faith too strong But now that you've come here What do you do? The lover's last kiss Which would die with time While you stand on the other side Was it even worth a dime? The worthiness of it all You'd say it doesn't matter What about the aching heart Does that not shatter? I know you've been there I know what they say It's easy, move on I know what all goes on You pick yourself up love And light your own fire For the bridges that weren't meant to be Can always be a pyre Pyre of a wrong decision For which you've been forgiven You loved with all your heart you see? And you do not deserve misery!

Habits

I sometimes think why we behave how we do. Everyone has habits, so hard to let go. Habits accumulated over the years of meeting people. Habits picked up, heard, seen and done. The habit of not giving up. Of waiting. Of hoping. The habit of sitting wrapped in a towel after a hot shower because you're not sure of the day anymore. The habit of not being sure. Of decisiveness. Of indecisiveness. So much so they begin to define us. Involuntarily. Subconsciously.

Exist

For everything we are, for everything we ever wanted to be. We dream on. I sometimes think no one ever is free. You exist somewhere, always. Sitting on someone's wish Or a memory A fleeting moment a forgetful thought or some failed attempts at forgetting sitting there, silently, in the back of all faces smiling in people who pass by We're all there. Silently, just existing. Just like the air. The light. The absolute absence of darkness. Some light Light is hope isn't it? Who knows.!

The Rag Doll

There's a little girl.. playing with a doll. Her brother despises it. But when she's with her, the world ceases to exist. A black frock just short of its imaginary knees... a black hat.. blonde hair sprouting under them. Fixed round big eyes pure black.. and a fixed smile of thread. Just hugging it would make her day as it were her best friend.. Her mate.. Her partner in crime. She's holding the pen now.. writing long stories ..Fixed round black eyes..blonde hair.. and a fixed smile... and now she's thinking of a rag doll.. long gone.. !