When I Started Reading The Grisha Trilogy I Was All For Darklina Because Of All The Shit I’d Seen About

REFORMATION

Holding on tightly to mamma's finger,

Our first fear was getting lost in the crowd

Then we grew up,

Held many other hands and let go of some

Slowly we saw our fear change

From getting lost to feeling lost amidst a crowd.

As a kid, we woke up in the middle of the night,

And then didn't go back to sleep

Thinking there might be demons under our bed

But as an adult,

it's harder to get any sleep

Because demons moved from under our beds to inside our heads.

(18.11.20)

"What is stronger than the human heart Which shatters over and over and still lives."

Sunshine In Disguise 🌤

Standing in the middle of a crowd

struggling to find my sound

I put my heart on a silver platter,

every wound unbound.

Endlessly wanting to do furthermore,

to feel a sense of belonging.

Until one day, I was worn out

wishing for an exemption from that longing.

It took me ages to comprehend

that it takes only one soul

willing to give you a corner of their heart,

to pull you out of that black hole.

Someone who'll sit with you

until you're ready to talk.

Someone you can hold on to

until you're ready to walk.

They'll give you an unfeigned smile,

the one that reaches their eyes.

And that is how you'll know

that's your sunshine in disguise.

A Vampire Fever Dream. 👀

Centuries ago, one chilly winter night,

You smiled, held my hand in yours to leave behind,

Memories that twists my heart like a dagger,

While I wish my every sigh to be the last one

Since then I searched those amber eyes everywhere,

The color of maple leaves during the fall

I searched for you knowing that you are nowhere

Until I met someone who understood my pain.

Years passed away, and my companions with it.

I stayed the same, and so did our memories.

The only immortal things I've come across.

The living me, and the intangible us.

Now centuries later, this chilly winter

With this lovely human curled up next to me

I feel mortal. Not alive, just plain mortal.

Every second prized, every moment precious

With those same amber eyes, like a setting sun

One that threatened to burn me eons ago.

Have I wished for you often and hard enough?

That you had no other choice but to come back.

I read that Grief is a derived word

A word that stemmed from the Latin word gravis.

Gravis - Heavy.

A weight that we've to carry on our own

Because there's only I in Grief.

Most often there are no exit wounds.

It tears your skin and lodges within.

Sometimes we learn to live with it.

Sometimes we have to cut ourselves open and let it out.

And when there are exit wounds,

You've to be courageous enough to let it pass through you.

Tear open your skin twice.

There's no Us in Grief.

I can only sit next to you and hold your hand

While you're hurting.

Hoping you'll pull through.

And then help you stitch your exit wounds.

I used to curl up close to my bedroom wall,

hide under my blanket and hug my knees to my chest

Hoping, if there was a demon under my bed

it couldn't reach me.

Now I sleep on the other end

And when the night is darkest

I reach out under my bed

Hoping the demon under my bed

would hold me.

Tell me tales until I fall asleep, I say.

When it responds

I notice our voice sounds similar.

Hoarse and scratchy from the lack of use.

Hands cold and rough like it's filled with papercuts.

There are other demons, you know? Inside my head, I say.

They're not as kind as you.

They keep me up at night and keep me spiraling in the morning.

How do I get rid of them?

It considers, and as my consciousness starts to slip, it answers

Be kind to yourself as you're to me.

did someone say "hay"? 👀

“Anything with the power to make you laugh over thirty years later isn’t a waste of time. I think something like that is very close to immortality.”

— Stephen King, Hearts in Atlantis

Starry Night ⭐

Lying down on our grassy lawn,

Stars arranged like they're drawn,

Little fingers intertwined,

Playing on loop Seeing blind.

Then, you stand up to light your cigar,

That's when I see a shooting star.

I see your face through lighters flame,

And realize both are the same.

(04.12.20)

Attempt at a prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting 's December prompts.

disquiet

A piece of me is always missing, Like the last block of lego that I can never seem to find One empty space right in the center of the jigsaw puzzle. I'm not sure if I lost it along the way. I'm not sure if I'm yet to find it. But lately, the gap seems more blatant. I'm anxious that it's visible to the people around me. That when they look at me, they see half a person. It's almost like I'm mimicking a being While I'm on the quest for the missing elements.

Sometimes, everything is wholesome! Golden skies, daisies, moongazing, Dusty libraries where ghosts of dead poets linger, Tight hugs, acts that mean "I'm thinking of you.", I look at my picture with my friends, smiling ear to ear And the jigsaw puzzle is complete. (or it was, then.) Some memories in me are so perfect that, The missing lego piece starts to feel like an extra piece From the table, you're trying to put together. It works fine without it, and there's nowhere to put it.

Then I'm back in my bed, back in my head. And I cannot remember how to be a whole person again I eat chocolate until I'm nauseated Or I never draw the curtains open and let the light flow through. I want to live life to the fullest, I never want to be seen in public again, I want all-consuming love, I want to believe I'm worthy of it, I want to feel complete when I'm alone, I want someone to feel complete with.

I want and I want and I want… Socrates said, (Yes, I went there) "He who is not contented with what he has, would not be contented with what he would like to have." What about, She who is never content with who she is? What about me?