Wednesday, 24 August 2016

Out of love -61!

In the end,
All of us our lost
Some, somewhere
The rest,
Somewhere in the middle
Of nowhere.
I hate this double faced-ness, hypocrisy and inability of senses. It wants me to believe in God, while it refuses to legitimise faith in magic.
You know waiting
Is quite painful
Tests my patience too
I don't really
Mind it
Until, it's for you.
Those memoirs which can't be disposed off are much more fatal than memories.
There are somethings
That I will never learn
To unlearn.
In the end, it's you who has to collect your pieces and do the rebuilding. Again.
When time tries to waste you, waste the time like a pro. Sometimes you really need to show things their place, you know.
Everything is okay to deal with, but when it comes to not worrying about you, dayum, that's exactly the place where I fail every damn time.
Every backspace has a story. A story, craving to be heard, wishing to be acknowledged and wanting to be accepted.
Time is neither a healer,
nor an ointment.
Time is mere time.
Things start getting stale
And eventually rot.
That's about it,

No comments:

Post a Comment