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?

Let’s Make A Change

(WPC: The SunShine )

“Let me tell you something: no one is going to look at you, broken and shattered 
and think -
damn, you are beautiful.
No one is going to come pick up your broken pieces off the floor and
 assemble them into a beautiful whole.

Hell,
 you won’t even look at yourself and think – 
I made broken look beautiful.

You know why?

Because all those writers lied to you.

Yes, 
all those with their poems of scraped knuckles and 
blood dripping down chins, 
pomegranate songs and loves that ripped through you like 
hurricanes.

Liars.

So you and I, 
we are going to make a plan.

You are not going to romanticize days when your brain tells you to smash that mirror,
You are not going to romanticize the lover who doesn’t understand you 
but still writes about you.

Here is what you are going to romanticize instead:
You are going to romanticize the first day of spring,
Its gentle hands all over your body,
Lifting you up until you are as light as a feather.

You are going to romanticize the tea and honey kind of love,
No hurricanes, 
but sunshine that builds you up from within,
That helps you make it through the worst days.

You are going to romanticize gentle hands of a friend 
in yours,
Telling you that it is going to be okay.

Because it is.

And don’t trust poets, 
we’re no good,
 we love pretending that our jagged edges tantamount to a beautiful disaster, but in reality – 
there isn’t nothing beautiful about shaky hands holding a cigarette and 
empty eyes staring at the cracks in the walls.

You know what is beautiful, instead?

The days when you can look at yourself in the mirror and smile, 
scars and all.
Music that makes your soul flow like a river, 
books that offer comfort, 
families flocking together like overgrown birds to keep you safe and warm,
 friends that give you strength when you can find none, 
lovers who make you laugh through tears.

Baby, 
from now on 
you are going to romanticize healing;
Honey dripping down your fingertips,
August nights that stick to your skin, the day you find your purpose, 
long car rides and singing so loud that no one can shut you up now.

Bad news: 
no one is coming to save you.

Good news: 
you can save yourself.”
– Lana Rafaela (via wnq-writers.tumblr.com)

( Daily Prompt: Millions )

You There

It’s in the way she moves,
Softly, firmly, quietly,
Like she doesn’t wish to be spotted.
Slipping through cracks,
And disappearing into the crowd.

It’s in the way she laughs,
So ordinary, so familiar,
Yet a contradiction to her eyes.

Her eyes, so profound-
Seemingly an abysmal nothingness,
Yet containing everything.
Everything that needs to be known about her.

(Daily Prompt: Flattery Radical Authenticity )

It’s You.

She tasted of gunpowder and roses, just as beautiful and just as dangerous. She was smokes and mirrors. A reflection within a reflection, a forbidden act. She was ferociousness and tenderness in the same breath.

In the moment as we sat on that bench, my body ached for her. She was too much and too little at the same time. Much more than what she thought and much less than what I was making her out to be. She was untamed, unchained and unhinged.

Her pain was fueling the fire in her belly. I knew I could get burned. I knew I had to tread with caution but damn she was worth the burns.
And so I jumped.
To fall into her.

(In response to Weekly Discover Challenge: Designed for You )

Mountain & You.

One Word Prompt: LEAP/LONGING.

I stood at the edge of the mountain, a mind blowing view in front of me as the clouds rolled by and I could see almost everything in the distance. It was as if I’d become one with the sky, it was as if I’d reach up I would touch heaven above. Everything was so perfect yet all I could do was miss you. I screamed from atop, your name, it crashed with the mountains and valleys below and came back with the message that you were gone. All I wanted was for clouds to wrap me up and float towards you. All I wanted was to leap from mountains to mountains and somewhere in between find you. All I wanted from the wind was to carry your scent. Such massive beauty in front of me but all I could think of was you. And in that moment I swear the mountains moved… as my heart quivered in longing towards you.

 

Vibrant But….

Weekly Photo Challenge:Vibrant But…
Sadness

I painted this piece a few months ago. It was very refreshing to paint something after years and the meaning behind it meant a lot to me. It is inspired by an original piece: Sadness by cutetaeminnie.

Note: My finals are about to begin so hiatus is inevitable unfortunately. My exams will extend almost the whole length of February. So I will see you guys after a month. Will catch up with all your posts after I come back.

Will miss you all dearly.
Love & Peace,

Zee ❤

Get Lost. Get Found

All of us get lost…somewhere, at some point in our lives. We all hope to be found, by someone, by anyone.

We all get lost, sometimes deliberately. Hoping someone would be brave enough to come find us. We hide in the places only we know. And we leave behind clues for people to come find us. But not everyone can figure out those clues. We get lost and hope that someone, somewhere would miss us and come looking for us, venture after us to bring us back home. That is how some of us validate ourselves. We get lost deliberately hoping to be found. That is what some of us do to feel loved. To feel needed. To feel wanted. We get lost.

And all we can do is, pray to dear God, that someone would love us enough to bring us back.

We get lost to get found.

Fresh from the backyard today.