And it's because you think you won't be able to achieve it,
a part of you will never believe you deserved to achieve it.

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There's this thin line between "loving" and "wanting" that makes us who are and whom we have.

While nothing is permanent, 'permanence' in itself is relative!

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Everyone's in a cage.
We only realize that when we run out of things to be free of. We let some things, regardless of them being right or wrong, entrap us.
The difference is, some of us are conscious enough to know they are in fact, trapped. And, for me, being conscious of the things you unfailingly cannot escape from is a freedom. Because, then, even you cannot enslave yourself into being something you're not.

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i sometimes feel this is what life is: the delicate balance between 'you don't have to care about people' & 'don't you have to care about people?'

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People create, songs sustain!

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•Sweet despair•

(On the Moth and the Stick)


/Poem in caption/

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I had so many comets stacked at your feet, to guide you to me, lest you should be lost in dark.

I had a dream where I trapped you in a hall of mirrors to make you see what you aren't worth.

I had old leaves planted in your garden,
to bring back glorious ghosts of the gone.

I had a shipwreck in your name to let you know a wind causes the storm.

I'm counting one star for each time you'd wanted me.

Stars- so few, so many? But let the sun rise now.

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To keep you in my heart is like storing a bitterness and feeding from it everyday,
in every way, until my tongue feels bland as cotton and my palate gets chafed from dry air. You think you have ways to malign your taste, honey, but so do I.

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The sighs upon your death will someday succumb to the echoes of the hills and just like that, I'll find you there... in the lovers who whisper, in the pebbles that burble, in the hum of the bluebird. A melody will be made- the mountains' encore and you'll dwell in peace, away from your heart and mine... and all.

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Mother, universal.


(Poem in caption)

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