Breathing dreams like air..

[crimsondreamingidiot]

I'm sure I'm never going to be the same as before... But what was I before? Was everything ever alright before or was I just making myself belive that it was alright before?

[crimsondreamingidiot]

Oh... to live with the hope of finding and falling in love with you someday!

[crimsondreamingidiot]

A piece of white paper

Pen in one trembling hand,

The other occupied with a glass of whiskey,

The repeated pitter patter outside my window,

A thousand thoughts passing my head,

Nothing persists except for one, HER.

Never getting tired whilst watching the pool of ink,

Her luscious hair getting twirled when the breeze hits,

The tropical scent of her, that takes me back to the Bahamas beaches,

Her smile that lit up my broken dark heart,

All these thoughts sifted through me,

But never did any of them make it into the the white sheet.

Maybe it wasn't her that I was supposed to write tonight,

Maybe it was something else that just passed in my brain,

But for now I should leave before the thoughts of her completely consumes me.

I lay with my void,

Pondering on thought what could have been,

Maybe this love story isn't meant to be,

Just like the poem...

[crimsondreamingidiot]

Falling in love with you was the easy part, forgetting the memories that we created is something that I'm still trying to get over.

[crimsondreamingidiot]

No, falling in love with you was never a choice for me, but staying in love with you even when I knew you didn't was my choice, a choice that I could never avoid.

[crimsondreamingidiot]

Christmas Eve

Walking down the snowy streets on a christmas eve.

Headed towards the Midnight mass

I stop by and watch a crowd leave the manor

the front yard filled with blinking stars.

I wonder what it is to be inside the manor,

Bustling with people of all ages.

From tiny bundles of joy to Time machine,

Kids sipping on hot coco and pondering on their christmas gift

The elders savouring their eggnog while cherishing their past memories.

Kids running around the manor to catch a glimpse of Santa

Mothers preparing cookies and milk for Santa

Grandma's filling each stocking with knitted sweaters & Scarves

Aunts & uncles getting pictures with the whole family,

Realising all the time I have lost, I hurry towards the church,

Fathers trying to get everything from the lil ones letters to Santa.

A cold wind blows my face,

Wakes me from my almost perfect Christmas

Hoping to have a better Christmas next year.

[crimsondreamingidiot]

"People's personality are never black and white. They are always shades of grey, sometimes too dark or sometimes too light ".

-Ri

[crimsondreamingidiot]

You unraveled a part of me that I never knew existed. Those starry eyes that shone brightly every time you saw me. From a complete stranger you become a person without whom I can't imagine a life. Since the day we met we both grew up to be the person who we are. We were there for each other when we had our highest and our lowest. We were always each other's shelter in the storm, the unpaid therapist who were there for when you need a shoulder to cry on. Things will be never as how it was , one thing what will always remain the same is always the love and care we have for eachother, no matter how far we are .

[thoughtkick]

“And if you call me at 4 am, too sad to even say hello, I will listen to your silence until you fall asleep.”

— Unknown

[crimsondreamingidiot]

It has been said that silence can weild more power than words. No one know that better than me. It is in silence where one may find truth. All one has to do, I suppose is listen for it. I know there will always be times when silence is necessary. And, if ofcourse, times when it is not.

-Penelope Featherington, Bridgerton.

[crimsondreamingidiot]

Your heart was a labyrinth and I willingly walked in just to get over the forever feeling of torment!

[crimsondreamingidiot]

They both admired each others poetry... He read her poetry scribbled on and she devoured the work of God and that's when she knew it was a forever story!

[crimsondreamingidiot]

She woke to the sweet smell of jasmine's that grew in her backyard, drenched herself in a salwar with his favorite color on, wore jhumkas that reminded her of the stars of the night they saw, with a bindhi tht looked like a full moon nd she left her house with a new hope.

[crimsondreamingidiot]

They say it's a place that you always wanna come back to , but everytime she come back here it reminded her of all the gruesome she went through and could'nt cry for help

A place where she was supposed to be given the courage to fly high , instead it became a place of wing clipping

A place where she thought she was admired of how different she was from others , but it became a place where she was told to do better always

A place where she expected to fly high lyk her siblings , but she was always kept locked in cage

A place she expected she would never be judged , turned to be the only place filled with prejudice minds

A place where she should have been taught how to be fearless and face the world courageously , instead she was taught how to live in the fear of the world that exists outside

A place where she expected to have minds tht help her achive her dreams , but she was only surrounded by judmental minds

A place she hoped tht would help her solve the puzzle of life, turned to the point where she had to start from scratch all over again

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

“is it bad that i look for you in everyone i meet? i search for your eyes, no hand feels the way yours did in mine, and nothing can top the sweet taste of your lips. they say to let those things go but what will i cling to if you're the only thing i've ever known.”

— unknown (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

And suddenly, my friends started telling me that I had changed. Suddenly, my desire to get up in the morning faded. My grades got lower. My room stayed messy. My followers unfollowed. My hair had split ends. My cheeks were the hills that tears would run over more and more. My imagination faded. Art wasn’t fun anymore. I didn’t care for the sweet company between hand and pencil. It took too much effort to read a book. My attention span weakened. My parents hated me. Life hated me. I hated me.

(via fairylights-nightsky)

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

my abuse isn't poetic. it was not justice or necessary. the earth left me to die and there is no such thing as karma. the gods watched idly by as i was killed in that house and not a damn person tried to help me

– unknown