“ There is peace even in the storm.” Vincent Van Gogh
The fear is not of drowning in your eyes,
nor sinking in those pools of translucent dews but
of being abandoned at the sides of your lips
by the myriad tear-drops.
There is no individual as far as I can see who has not been either abused or inadvertently part of abusing someone. Someone brilliantly remarked in life you are abused by some and you abuse some. I don’t know whether, I agree with the statement or not , but I do feel we all need to develop a thick rhino skin to be able to withstand the conniving abuse mechanisms of certain people unfortunately of few who are closely related.
In couples very often children are used as a ploy to threaten each other. I’ve been in a position several times where I’ve been threatened that my daughter will be taken away if I try to leave. Earlier out of fear very often I’ll give in due to fear of being separated from my child but lately I’ve decided not to let the fear paralyze me and allow things to unfold. I guess once bullies and abusers are shown that you don’t fear the consequences, it breaks the whole pattern of abuse. What do you 🤔 think??
As they say there is a bigger victory awaiting after fear… . It’s disheartening that the weakest individuals among choose such mechanisms to intimidate and weaken the spirits of others. Some of us give in thinking that may be this is the end and get caught up in vicious cycle of abuse mechanism. If you feel you’ve been in similar pattern of abuse, I feel you need to first get rid of the debilitating fear and seek help, I’m sure it’s available or talk to near and dear ones.
Most importantly break the pattern of your own fear and anxiety!
The glittering words of hope are mere,
a few letters arched with a tip of pen.
Forced to live the relativity of a temporal life,
itched with the redundant barbed memories.
This throbbing pain is real while the golden
hope exists in a realm of a dream.
Again didn’t get my due ,
a mere tiny dew on the greenish
hue, it was here but now
It’s gone. A due that I
thought I earned , I was
told is now all burnt.
With blank eyes I see,
my share passed on to the
to the shadow on the right.
While I turned to my emaciated self,
the gloated shadow flipped its
monstrous ears , came and stood
this time on my left.
Trapped in a fluid body,
tentacles of burgundy garbed
thoughts oozing out like
myriad snake heads. Sniffing
somberly, the dark melancholia
pervasive in the air and then
crawling back, melting again
with the red hues.
“This is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you’re not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.”
Shutting my eyes,
but even shut eyes;
can’t veil the reality.
When your story
begins on a letter I
and ends on letter I,
You begin to lose out on
others letters of this
All those As, Bs and Cs
which in synchrony
would have lend some
meaning to your otherwise