Love letters to you. My heart's quill continues its longing to write you out onto pages as words. I realized I can no longer resist it, for my heart knows what it wants and that's your heart. Flowers dance in my mind, as if I'm watching you cheerfully dance in a field of wild flowers. Your love lifts me off the ground and into the clouds, where I've found the best version of myself. Oh how you complete me Darling. So I'll continue writing about the flowers painted so perfectly on your skin and how your mind is as beautiful as a field of wild flowers vibrantly dancing in the wind. I won't stop wishing on those dandelions, for you aren't in my arms just yet but you will be soon.
•Artwork done by me, t.s.anon.
Had to eventually draw the flowers on her hands that I've been writing about.
SWIPE TO READ>>>>
Woke up from a nap just to post this, and Imma go right back to sleep lmao // Uhhh just a little thing that I hope yall enjoy. Tell me your thoughts, please ✨
Photo: Maxime Staudenmann (Unsplash)
▪ Gone are those times when happiness was having those innocent conversations with your loved ones sitting beside you. ▪ Gone are those times when happiness was deciding everything through "akkad bakkad bumbe bo" ▪ Gone are those times when happiness was being on computer only for showing your "painting skills". ▪ Gone are those times when happiness was planning to go to naani's house in the vaccations. ▪ Gone are those times when happiness was having Rasna with your friends. ▪ Gone are those times when happiness was to get a star made on your hand by your favourite teacher. ▪ Gone are those times when happiness was buying a new video game cassette.
▪ Gone are those times when happiness was creating your first account on "Orkut" :p ▪ Gone are those times when happiness was deciding who deserved your friendship, love, affection, marriage, enmity and sisterhood (FLAMES) :p
▪ Gone are those times when Boost was the secret of our energy. ;) ▪ Gone are those times when happiness was wearing the nicest outfit on your birthday to school.
▪ Gone are those times when happiness was being chased around by your mother trying to put oil in your hair.
And gone are those times when happiness was all we could ask for. ...when happiness was all we could feel. 😌
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Let my beautiful regrets, gather plumes in the breeding season, and fly away as pretty little egrets, and may the wind carry them from shore to shore, over blue green waters and white sparkling sands, under fluffy white clouds, where they will be allowed to be free. I reflect on my mistakes, the confounded errors that mark every day of my life, mistakes with you, mistakes about me, and I want to swim back ashore and plead for insanity, for a retrial, for one chance at rebooting some of my days, but the current is too strong, and I drift where I was meant to drift, bobbing with the buoyancy of my cynical faith and following instructions on my google map charted by remorse and repentance. And my butterfly strokes on water cannot promise me flight, it is in no position to guarantee me redemption, and I look up at the sky and see those egrets, so big, so light, so happy, little flurry clouds of no regrets, as I head towards a nameless abandoned island very far away in the depths of the emerald blue that belongs to the last signature forfeited by mankind. And the owner of the signature sits in his rocking chair, old bony hands, temporary skin sagging beyond the edges, shivering in the breeze, waiting patiently to hear my lament, with a cup of the coldest tea in the universe.
My feet have always been forced
Wherever they may happen to land, it can only ever be
a hitch in my breath, a heart’s skipped beat,
before they are again torn
In the desert, not a plant can root,
not a flower can bloom,
not a living soul in sight
but the wind that blows
whipping wild and lonely
over these barren sands;
all my life, I have been
the lone speck of sand
washed away with every wind,
drifting in an relentless dream,
drowning in a soundless scream,
with no place to call my own.
They say home is where your heart is;
what then, can you call your home
when your heart has been stretched thin
over the many alien lands
it has now learnt to love?
Where can you say your home lies
when all the roots
you've ever dared to put out
have been ripped without mercy
out of the ground?
Which place can you claim to love best
when your heart still writhes
in the rawness
of the searing ache
of the wounds
each parting makes?
There is not something in my eyes.
My reality is glitching
Because for some reason,
You are not here anymore.
I am trying to bring you back. -G.Brownell **I haven’t posted much lately and I’m very sorry about that. Because I’ve been so busy I haven’t been able to sit and get in the mindset that produces good work. I rather wait to post great pieces than to post a “filler” piece everyday. Do you guys agree?
Enjoy today’s piece💫