Hurt Me 


He shoved her against the wall. Her back hitting the concrete with a loud thud. A painful breath escaped her lips as she felt the impact surge through her back and spine. It felt like her heart crashed against her chest wall and the only reason it didn’t leap out of the cavity was because her ribs didn’t let it. And it wasn’t just the physical impact of the shove that made her feel that way.

She fell to the ground in a trembling mess as he came running to pick her up.

Oh my God. Shit shit shit. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He babbled the words trying to lift her up. “I didn’t mean it.”

She didn’t have to see the bruises to know that they had already marked her shoulders as she whimpered in pain when he touched her.

Touch.

His touch.

A part of her despised it. But a part of her still warmed up to it. A part she needed to smother. Like the way his arms were smothering her as he took her in his embrace. The embrace that now felt more like gallows than home. His arms felt like thorns etching into her skin as she tried to recoil away from him but failed to do so.

I’m so so sorry.” He kept repeating the same words.

She couldn’t cry. The pain was searing through her body in violent frenzy, running through her veins and lungs looking for an escape somehow. Only to return back to her heart in vain. She didn’t say a word and he kept spitting some more meaningless apologies as they sat on the floor in air that reeked of heartbreak and hundred broken promises. And the only thing that was kind to them in those moments was night as it stood a silent witness to their downfall. There was nothing left between them but question marks about love, if there ever was. Even ‘nothing‘ felt like a lot more than what they two had left between them now.

(Daily post: Anticipation,  Maddening)

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We Bleed (To Transform)

(Transmogrify)
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I don’t know what it is about blood. We claim it’s a bad thing yet we can’t stop bleeding. We let others wound us over and over again until gash is a foot deep into our soul. Sometimes we wound others and get wounded in the process.

We clutch tightly to barbed wires of emotional attachments and walk on the burning coals of expectations. And by the end of it when we fall on the ground profusely gushing and wounded to our core, we make promises to ourselves; never again. But as we all know, promises are made to be broken.

The wound is by now infected because you didn’t take care of it well. You didn’t suture it on time and you didn’t put the bandage when you should have. You just let it be; as a reminder of all the things you loved that ruined you.

We fall back onto bed made of thorns of disappointment, exhausted. And bleed some more. We bleed until we can’t. We ache until every muscle in our body refuses to ache anymore. We suffer until pain itself screams in pain. Until the infection has spread onto every small vein and down to our very bones. Until we find ourselves disintegrating- crumbling, decaying, withering.

But,
How else could we have become anew,
If we had not first become ashes?

Heart Is A Despicable Little Thing

Heart is a despicable little thing. It get’s out of hand every single time I let it loose a little. Made a huge mistake, I let my guards down and it fluttered out of it’s gilded cage. Out in the unprecedented territories. Gosh I hate it when it does that. Curious little thing ends up getting hurt every single time. And I end up having to put band aids over all the bruises on it as It winces and cries out in pain while I cuss it for attempting to leave it’s cage. Heart is so selfish. It doesn’t understand the collateral damage it leaves behind every single time it escapes. It doesn’t understand it is me, who has to clean up the mess it makes. Selfish little thing, only thinks of itself. So here I am again, putting back together the pieces it broke in the process, trying to suture it back with minimal scarring. I have to admit I’m becoming quiet good at this, fixing the broken pieces over and over again. But I’ve found a way to keep heart in it’s gilded cage forever now. Yeah, then heart won’t be able to escape. This fickle heart will soon know it’s place.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Envelope
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“The good times and the bad times both will pass. It will pass. It will get easier. But the fact that it will get easier does not mean that it doesn’t hurt now. And when people try to minimize your pain they are doing you a disservice. And when you try to minimize your own pain you’re doing yourself a disservice. Don’t do that. The truth is that it hurts because it’s real. It hurts because it mattered. And that’s an important thing to acknowledge to yourself. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t end, that it won’t get better. Because it will.”

-John Green

I Don’t Want It

I don’t want the truth from anyone because…
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And I’ve been disappointed so far.

Release Me

Daily Prompt: Release Me
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/10/20/daily-prompt-free/

Tell us about the blog post you were most nervous to publish — and what it was like to set it free.
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I’ve a hard time talking about my feelings but through writing, I’ve found a way to release. I still have a hard time writing about somethings but Well its a start…maybe someday I’ll be courageous enough to write about that stuff.

So far there are two blog posts I had a hard time writing about and was a little nervous if I should write about it or not.

One of them was the Battle with myself, why I was nervous about writing it was because that was the first time I came close to hurting myself. Sure I had thoughts about it before but I never came so close to do it. One of the reasons was because I had strong faith. My faith made me hold on to the glimmer of light and hope. But in those days I was a little out of faith, I’ve to admit I became close to becoming depressed, maybe I did become depressed. And in that slight moment of discretion I became too close to hurting myself.
To be honest I wasn’t courageous enough to do it (People keep telling me that it doesn’t mean I was a coward, It means I was strong enough to resist it, but I don’t think that was the case. If I even had a ounce of courage in me, I would have cut myself for sure. I was that depressed.)
Well anyways, I’m glad I wasn’t able to do it. Thanks God, my weakened faith started to get stronger. That EPISODE of depression faded away. I’m glad I was able to write about it and release my anger through that.

The second post has to be Rest In peace series (part 1 & part 2). I wasn’t nervous about writing this post, but It was hard for me to write about it. Coping with death is not easy. There was no one I could talk to, I’m not very vocal about how I feel so family wasn’t on my list to talk to about it. My best friend couldn’t be here at that time. So to be honest I couldn’t wait to write about it. The very first thing I did when I came back from the funeral was to write about it. I wanted to get it all out. To tell someone about every detail about it. But to tell the whole world about it was the hard part. I was unsure how people would react to it. I couldn’t bear anything bad being said about that, because that post was very close to me.

But eventually I did write about it. I did publish it. I was able to get it all out. Most importantly, as i wrote the Part 2: Peace Of The Present Moment , Everything became clearer and clearer to me, I was able to get a good lesson out of it. I felt more at peace with myself. Obviously it still hurts to think about my niece, it still hurts every time I look at my brother and see his sad smile but life goes on…We have to move on and as I said before, Learn to live in peace of the present moment.
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