I want to kill my bad habit of trusting someone easily And to adapt the habit of accepting the truth that no one is real in this world except very few No one is going to help you in your success because all are selfish except your parents
Loving people too deeply is my habit attached with a string to another habit of mourning for the one who was never even mine. One I want to leave while the other never leaves me. Whose fault? Heart's or the one I call my heart.
Sachi mohabbat tere pass hain, Teri haan me haan,naa me naa hain, Do pal pehle hi toh mile hain, Naa jaane fir bhi kyun dil ko tujh pe itna itbaar hain.
My empathy is a bunch of balloons I hand to every stranger that crosses my street. And even when I'm running on a loss, I set a few free, so that maybe whoever's up there won't be so lonely.
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