He made a puppet out of me
Tied to my body and heart were strings of lies
I danced to his tunes of illusion
My heart gloated of his being
But it was all jokes to him
Burnt the love in my heart
The bird of loyalty in my soul flew off
Silence swallowed me each day
Life flogged me with all her might
My bliss was melted into sadness
I now stand at crossroads looking for answers
I hope my ink of life doesn't finish;
For my story is still being inked with the birth and death of each day.
-IOS

At the corner of her room ;
She hid her desolate body.
She moans like she's been raped.
I guess love raped her in an unforgiving way.
Can't understand the flogs of life at her.
Her only ally is darkness.
Darkness helps her leave a pain-void life.
Her shadow hugs her in its embrace.
She melts the sorrow in her.
She makes her feel whole again.
But she still calls for her old self
But she has catapulted her old self to hell.
Now her demons are even scared of her.
She can only grow her pain
But her future has withered.
-IOS

This writer🖤🖤🖤

Just so you know a goodbye didn't take a life time.......a simple wave would have done it and now I don't even remember the last time we saw eachother let alone laughed or talked or actually said goodbye...and that hurts so much in a way which is impossible for a human to bear....
-just thought you should know-

Read for the wisdom covers our wounds, it teaches us how to bleed subtle.

Thoughts hub

They ask me my picture as though it is something that expresses who I am. As though my body tells the stories behind my eyes. As if they show my struggle. Maybe they saw the carvings i made on my wrist. Those scars know where i have been. Maybe they too have a story of me they want to whisper. Maybe they are the only thing in my body that made me me. What they would never know is that I existed more in my words than the curve my body makes or its total existence. If only they read between the lines and understood beyond their comfort of imagination they would have known that. Because I know I am nothing except who I am on the inside...except my wondering mind,my tired soul,the stitches on my heart and what created them. It's not like a man who neither sees or touches me and feel the dents of my body will ever know me. Ask me? Go ahead. Ask me? Ask me who I am? Ask me what broke my heart? Ask me what worsened my trust issues? Ask me why I hate my body? Ask me who made me hate it? Ask me why the flower besides my name is always wilting?Ask me what happened when I was 12? Ask me? Maybe in those letters i will find myself. Maybe in those letters you will find me too.
-Yeab T🥀-

Sometimes I think the loneliness inside of me is going to explode through my skin and sometimes I’m not sure if crying or screaming or laughing through the hysteria will solve anything at all. Sometimes I’m so desperate to touch, to be touched, that I’m almost certain I’m going to fall off a cliff in an alternate universe where no one will ever be able to find me

Have you retired from what hurts you or are you still waiting for it to hurt you more?

I practiced all the rituals of anxiety, chewing my nails, blotting my lower lip, popping my fingers, turning around more than ten times. I would like to know some new ways.

We also bite pens, ten fingers are not enough for regrets and anxiety.

Thoughts hub

The day I say this to myself with pure kindness it's over for everyone.

We overthink till we go nuts...constantly every second.

In slumber;my body feels better
The motivations of life are broken
The batteries of motivation which fuel my life
Have died. I guess they jerked out this body for it was waste of energy.
The fire keeping my body alive has lost its fury.
I lay all arsenal mother nature gave me to fight the struggles.
Mama nature never knew I was feeble force
So she gave me her best artillery.
I'm sorry mama. I failed you. I failed my self. I failed my generations.
I'm only left with my shadow.
My shadow has begun diminishing as well. I guess I have to lie down on the floor alone;
In a peaceful-wait for my body to rot with it's ingenuity and stupidity.
-IOS

I always find it hard to find pleasure in small things.

True.

It can't always be about the pain.💔

Q. If you ever find love,what do you think you will say about it? What is that love to you?

A. Love is like that frog and boiling water experiment thing. You don’t know it exactly when it starts. You realize it on “oh am fucked!” moment.

I can’t define it but it feels calm and energetic at the some time

#AskWs

I don’t want you to love me because I’m good for you, because I say and do all the right things. Because I am everything you have been looking for.
I want to be the one you didn’t see coming. The one who gets under your skin. Who makes you unsteady. Who makes you question everything you have ever believed about love. I want to be the one who makes you feel reckless and out of control; the one you are infuriatingly and inexplicably drawn to.
I don’t want to be the one who tucks you into bed; I want to be the reason why you can’t sleep at night.

— LANG LEAV