Emotional-diarrhea

I've let things go,  Usually to spare them from myself. Like the wave retreating back from the shore, I've let things go despite wanting to stay.  I've learned to unplug myself, as painful as it can be, like a limb being torn away from a wounded body . I've learnt to hide my pain and disappointment, And I've labelled it 'Fate'. So every time I broke away from someone dear to me,  I said to myself it was 'Fate',  that spared my loved one from me. I've heard my mouth speak the words  "I'm happy for you" with a painted smile across my face ; half smiling , half laughing- laughing at my 'Fate ' .

CHAPTER 1 :"Maybe" Drunk intoxication infiltrated his threshold of control , driving him into a lust-driven state of lightness. When he closed his eyes he felt her scent fill his nostrils , invigorating his senses, awakening his memory. As he collided into the sheer net curtains losing balance, he remembered how her dark raven curls swept his face in the wind, leaving him breathless. He frantically grabbed at the curtain and looked out of the window, out onto the street , where colorful stringed lights blinded his vision, and dragged his mind back to the first time . The first time he fell, madly, deeply , fervently in love with her smile amidst a festival of life and colour.  He reached the doorway of his room and saw a slender figure seated gazing at the mirror in the darkness. The windows of the balcony were wide open, allowing the cool monsoon breeze to stream in. She stirred slightly and awoke from her trance-like state upon hearing him at the doorway. She watched...

If you cage a Phoenix , She's bound to burn in flames. Kill the bird, for its spirit will not seize - to exist -to persist -to resist. Shoot her in brain, before you try to -Tame her -Limit her -Modify her. Before you Squash her dreams and Paint her average Slip her, a couple too many sleeping pills. So she doesn't wake from her slumber , into Your Nightmare. Before you settle her for ordinary, Less that perfection So humble, so simple So trained for 'society's ways' Show her the open window So she may slip therein and Be At Peace, When you feed a million starving children, and provide them with their needs Like Patron Mother Theresa Resurrected from the grave Never mind the child of your own sleeping in the dark She does not need nutrition When your words have already fed her with Ammunition Against You. Against those like You, Who live for appeasing the world Who live for praise at the cost of soul. Who all the while, ...