Pain is the only thing that ever stayed.
Cosimo Galluzzi
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@arcaneletters
Pain is the only thing that ever stayed.
What will your hands offer you if they could?
What would my hands offer me? They will probably offer a poison disguise as honey. And I'll drink it and move on from this world, hpoing I'll land on a bigger, more free, and more understanding; poetically beautiful place.
When your starving, any kind of food is divine for you. No matter if the food is made on the worse sins and the sacrifice of the most innocent. If the devil himself offers me love and warmth now, I might as well devoured it.
I always feel like I wanna die young. I never wanna be an elder. I think that something about that age...is not free. It's like their trapped. I wanna read romance novels and be like, "Yeah, I can get this one day." I don't want romance characters and protagonists in movies be a little too yonger than me. And as I see it, everything is for young people. Is surrounded by young people. So I don't wanna feel what is like being an old man. I can't be forever young, so I might as well die young.
Never having anything isn't the pain. You can still hope. But having it once and losing it? That's what ruins you.
"When someone dies and nobody's there to cry for them, the angles randomly assigns someone to be sad for them. And we humans tend to call it melancholy."
~~unknown
I don't need a love where they will love me. I just want someone. Someone warm. Even if they don't care about me. I just want to feel the presence of another human being. I just want them to hold me. And they can hurt me if they want. I won't mind— because at least I'll have the warmth. That ache is better than the emptiness. Let my love kill me. I'd rather die in their lap, by their hand, rather than die alone and cold. Remember Icarus? Yeah. I wanna die in the warmth of my love, not in the cold of nothingness.
In English we say, "'Till death do us part."
But in Islam, we say, "We found love on this earth, and we will again meet each other in heaven, where our love will become eternal."
They kissed me a little too hard and my lips started bleeding. And I pretended as if blood doesn't actually test that bad.
I just feel like you need tragedy and pain in your life. There's something fascinating about pain and suffering I guess. That's why we like Titanic or; traedy novels and poems and literary works.
Teenage
The stars are screaming my name,
And the birds are whispering songs.
In the bursting teenage flame,
Where the feelings are overstrong—
Where is the time to think?
Where is to stop?
Procrastinating a lot of things,
Hundred homeworks to mop.
"You do get to see the world differently than I do. You see it through a brain full of chaos, a heart that somehow keeps beating even after it’s been kicked around, and eyes that keep looking for meaning even when life feels like it’s written by a drunk screenwriter on deadline."
~~~ChatGPT on a random Friday night
Were you ever, like, staring out the window and a random inspiration kicked in? A poem idea? A story? Random mind blowing thought or a theory? Maybe that's a housewife with screaming thoughts burried in her chest who never got to write them out and died like that whispering in the wind hoping someone would hear her and you tend to catch those whispers and make a dead scream into poetically structured phrases scripted in ink or typed in keys.
It's not the happiness that's truly us, but pain is. Life feels like a fairytale when you're happy. But in pain, that's when you feel the reality; pain is what makes you know that you're alive. When you are vulnerable and seared open and laid naked in front of the cruel reality, that's when you truly feel the life; truly become yourself. Pain is what makes us, us.
In Another Universe, My Love
My blood carries liquid fire;
And the color of the dream you brought.
In another universe—
my love;
In another universe—
my love;
Maybe I'll be a girl there,
Then I won't face these issues
Of people telling me,
Loving him isn't fair.
In another universe—
my love;
They'll understand my love,
They'll respect you and me,
And there wouldn't be sin in your touch,
Loving you wouldn't be tough.
In this universe—
my love;
Only glances in the eyes of a hunted deer,
So deep and bright, yet dimmed by the pain
Of the arrow that's fake—I know it's phantom,
Still hurts like a bereaved mother's cry.
Shoreless desire I hold in my heart,
Tied in silence, and chained in fear.
In another universe—
my love;
My blood carries liquid fire;
And the color of the dream you brought.