clover

i wish to drown myself in hyacinths, the purple ones.

[veiledichor]

maybe

we'll save ourselves tonight,

in one others arms.

maybe

it'll be warm, in your embrace;

maybe

it'll be soft, like your breath;

maybe

we'll die tonight

but if it's in your arms it'd be a death done right;

maybe,

we'll be alright,

tonight.

- © veiledichor

[veiledichor]

i remember,

the first death i saw was when i was five,

the last death i heard about was a week ago.

12 years of death,

in different forms and kinds.

i remember,

a kid jumping off the third floor of our corridors.

so they put up railings in our school,

that was the most care

he could ever afford for.

i remember,

my friend hanged himself,

two houses away;

i watched and heard his family wail,

that was indeed a repelling scene to look at.

i remember,

one day his dad gave me a ride

on my way back home,

and somewhere within the lines,

he made me swear,

to never turn out the same.

i had a classmate,

shy, quiet, a sweet one,

we were two benches apart;

i remember,

the day she was absent and our class teacher walked in,

it was the news of the week,

her father killed himself,

leaving a mother and her two daughters in debt.

i remember,

i had a junior, we shared the same van,

suddenly, he was on a leave,

for two weeks or maybe longer than that;

it did not feel strange at that time,

until there was announcement that his mom died.

it did not feel heartbreaking until i realised,

he had a five year old brother,

and a father that never cared for them or their mother.

two years later;

i remember,

it was saturday,

my sister recieved a text,

one of her friends jumped off a ten storey,

there was a painful silence that night,

i tried to console her, i could not.

how many deaths have i written yet?

how many can i write?

how many more can i see?

how many more until it's finally me?

- © veiledichor

[veiledichor]

to her, to me

to her,

the 15 year old me,

would you still hope? if i tell you

i'm nothing of what you wished for,

would you be alright? if i tell you

i'm nowhere near what you expected for you life.

i never grew taller past 15,

there's a certain curse to that,

for this petite body is incapable of swallowing all these big emotions, they're too huge for me;

i never knew where to put them.

this body is broken shelf, those cracks on flesh aren't easy to mend.

i could never outgrow myself, what hope do I have to outgrow them?

i tried to perfect that voice and that smile,

that handwriting, that laugh, those marks,

but i could not.

the frame for the picture perfect life, i broke it with my own arms.

would it be okay? if i told you,

i wasted my days in misery,

there's a list of excuses and self pity.

to her,

the 15 year old girl,

and would it be okay if i ask of you

to hug me and pamper me tonight,

would it be okay if i am doing nothing

but just trying to stay alive.

- © veiledichor

[veiledichor]

The nights are so beautifully quiet,

for a time when

brothers killed,

and kids of perfect parents weeped,

for students trying to cram for their next day sheets,

and the insomniac trying to beat herself to sleep.

And the nights are awfully quiet,

for a time when

razors slide on skins

and someone coughs up sleeping pills.

Too terribly quiet for the time when

people screamed,

people wept,

and people nearly, almost nearly,

hanged to death.

— veiledichor ©

[veiledichor]

Autumns

It was that time of year

again,

when

hundreds of them fell,

stomped by thousands,

everyday.

But the city was too busy,

to speak or be spoken to.

They made a noise,

lament or request we couldn't make out,

but if you lent them your ears,

you'd hear them

loud and clear;

hold me before i fall,

kiss me before i die.

i'm dying

— veiledichor ©

[veiledichor]

Something fell off the tenth floor tonight,

there was one loud thud ,

and everything went quiet.

Don't look don't look,

there are bones and intestines.

Don't look don't look,

at the drop of water,

by the side of his eye,

truly from a coward who didn't think twice.

It stinks it stinks,

the iron from his blood.

It stinks it stinks,

of mockery and bruises from his skin.

Stay away stay away,

you might spoil your shoes on the way,

there's a lot of blood,

and lot more unsaid.

Stay quiet stay quiet ,

we don't talk about cowards tonight.

- veiledichor ©

[veiledichor]

when did we get used to

staying up all night?

when did we start avoiding fights?

just because if you were to say another word,

you'd start crying.

when did we get so used

to failures, and silence,

that now

even the sound of

your own voice hurts.

when did we start to grow

tired of days, mornings and sunshine,

when did we get used to

staying up all night?

i was 16 yesterday,

how did i wake to being 19 today?

where did those 3 years go?

when did i live them?

all i remember is

breathing,

breathing,

breathing,

and only the sound of my breath.

i grew up so fast,

that i can't even remember half of my past.

you asked what my favourite colour was?

i don't know,

you asked me about my happiest memory?

i couldn't tell anymore.

they lied to us,

growing up sucks.

— veiledichor ©

[veiledichor]

And for a while I think I needed God more than anyone else. I wished he was looking at me while i deny his existence, while i curse him out and maybe, just maybe he might try to prove me wrong.

I was looking for him even in my anger and praying for him in my pain, specially in my pain.

I hoped he might finally gaze at me, the only one I would ever let pity me and maybe this time things might change and when they did not, I resorted to temper, hoping they might catch his attention so he can finally pay attention to my state, I think I have been looking for him more than ever, particularly in my denial.

I prayed, I hoped, I wished, I reprimanded and denied but now I think I am being truly punished, I fear he's abandoned me and I fear he will never look at me ever again.

I fear I have no one left to lift me up and hold me, not even a fable told, the kind forgiving god you speak of.

I need a saviour, I need someone to hold me by my finger and lead me further, I need your god, I want him as my father too.

— veiledichor ©

[veiledichor]

i tried to write again today

and i could not,

i've used up all of my vocabulary

and the rest are dead in me,

i tried to write a lot and i certainly did,

but i am running out of lines

and there's nothing much i can do.

i've written so much sadness yet it never leaves,

lord, my words are dead

but there's a lot of it left in me.

— veiledichor ©

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

Before you can grow up, you must fall in love 3 times. Once you must fall in love with your best friend, ruining your friendship forever. This will teach you who your true friends are, and the fine line between friendship and more. Once you must fall in love with someone you believe to be perfect. You will learn that no one is perfect, and that you should never be treated as any less than you deserve. And once you must fall in love with someone that is exactly like you. This will teach you about who you are, and who you want to be. And when you're through with all that, you learn that the people who care about you the most are the ones that you hurt, and the ones that hurt you are the ones that you needed the most. But most of all, you learn that love is only a concept and is not something that can be defined, it is different to each person that experiences it. And you will learn to respect each and every person on this earth, knowing that everyone only wants to be loved.

[ukiyooh-deactivated20230421]

All of a Sudden

29th October 2014  During the fall 

When no one believed in me, neither did I. I was hopeless so were other people's hopes on me. My dreams seemed too far-fetched at this point. Everyone around me turned into an annoying cuckoo clock to remind me that now I'm supposed to climb down the road of goals and life ambitions and become realistic. But I wasn't supposed to be realistic while studying for national exams, winning an university-level competition, or getting a highly paid job. I was supposed to dream of the unreachable, the unachievable. So what changed? I get it; my first failure is supposed to be the last one, so accordingly, I should stop trying, in general, to avoid any future failures, lower my expectations and quit daydreaming about things I once wished to accomplish. In the past, I was considered a flawless perfectionist. Now, all of a sudden I'm a novice at whatever I'm doing. And I think it's pretty true-to-life, as I was an expert in many things like academics, sports, oratory, manners, discipline, art, and everything else they thought was important. But I was also an expert at my bodily functions, but look at the loser I have waxed myself into; I forgot how to breathe and laugh; I would willfully pay for a tutor to learn how to be a human again.

I was once a caged bird, and I continue to be one, not forcefully but voluntarily.

I felt stifled when people expected too much of me; I wanted to have time to spare and dedicate myself to things that made me feel liberated as free as a feather falling down on the ground. I wanted to touch the ground like that feather, unharmed, unfazed, and be lenient on myself. One day, all of a sudden, all my senseless fantasies came true; I fell to the ground but not light as a feather; it was a loud thud. Loud enough for everyone to take notice of. People laughed; few admirers of my mistakes disguised themselves in the form of help, and few got furious, not out of concern or anything but the fact that how can I fall?

For them, I was someone who was supposed to touch the sky, not kiss the ground.

Soon people started lowering their expectations and treating me like what they consider average in the human world. That pained my other half. I felt worthless, and now all of a sudden, I am just a blob of blood and bones. Oh, the cuckoo clocks were faithful to my misery; they never skipped a day to remind me how much time, resources, and money they emptied on me. And I truly felt sick of my existence. I no more, wanted to exist as the person I was. I was predestined to be either changed or destroyed.

I've always fantasized living a life where others don't expect so much from me and place all their hopes and bets on every life step I take. But now, all of a sudden, when I'm treated like what I wished for so long, so yearningly, why does it feel so unforgivable?

That day my tears were clinging to my eyes and refusing to fall. I want it gone; I want it even more, and that may be one way to find salvation for all I buried within me.

I priced my worth with what people thought of me, how they looked up to me, how they looked down on me, and how they never even thought of me. I contradict everything and everyone. I don't know who to blame, and I don't think I can carry this heap of guilt anymore. I once knew what I wanted for myself, what I liked, and the things I could achieve. Everything was in place and on time. It was perfect, as if it was meant to be. But now, all of a sudden, life seems to be a big mess, and I'm running out of time. I question myself before even trying out something new, am I really capable of doing it? Am I allowed to?

And all of a sudden, I was falling and I didn't knew how to stop myself from touching the ground again.

... 

~ ukiyooh ©

[veiledichor]

i chiseled my ribs

bone by bone,

set out my heart,

and you did not even look.

— veiledichor ©

[lifeinpoetry]

If your mother disowns her own mother, and her mother disowns her mother before that, and you then disown your mother, is it a grudge or a genetic trait?

— Rachel Wiley, from "The Mother Riddle," Revenge Body

[veiledichor]

oh i'd love to see you try,

to talk about joy without crying.

- veiledichor ©

[metamorphesque]

— Tatève Simonyan

[veiledichor]

my shoulders are heavy,

are in pain,

from carrying this sack for so long

how long? i do not know of that.

what does it contain?

remnants,

of me, body, of the kid

that i used to be.

it's soaking wet

from all the blood,

all the tears,

they refuse to dry, you see,

and their constant presence

is cold.

why don't i bury it yet?

but how can i?

she is me, she carries my name

my memories, my smile,

we're tied, together

forever.

my shoulders are heavy

not with agony

but it is the weight,

of her, of me.

— veiledichor ©

[veiledichor]

i wish to drown myself in hyacinths, the purple ones.

- veiledichor.

[coldbrewnette]

I blog for the girls who cry on their birthdays and lose a little bit of themselves during the summer months

[veiledichor]

and for girls with heart of a child but demeanour of an adult, to those who wish they never grew up