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©️ Your best can still be the worst to someone's eyes and your worst could even seem the best in someone else's eyes... Be yourself.... It only takes the right person to see it in you.. stay patient.. don't lose hope.. the right one would find you.. .
🖤 Thank you all for taking time to read all my poetry, quotes and musings @shilparpoetry . I write mostly about love, intense emotions, solitude, life.. All my works are copyrighted.. Kindly respect the originality of all my contents by tagging in all reposts.. 🖤 #shilparpoetry
Have a great day .
illustration courtesy : @ellehell
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Superheroes they make strong alliances, but their physical strength bares no comparison to their bonds with their team. Sadly, nothing weakens them like their weaknesses: kryptonite, water, ice, fire, light, the other elements that could baffle their battles. We, we were a great team. We had nothing standing in our way, open flower fields of our imagination to run wild with together hand in hand. We ran to and through everywhere we could and it was a dream come true, too good to be true. Our weakness soon reveled itself and unfolded just like Salvador Dali painted. Our weakness, was time... and I..till this day have the persistence.. of our memories my love ❤️💙 •SunSweet• ~
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Sweet jazz music sighing from the speakers
And fresh scuff marks cover my new sneakers
The wind moves through the trees like it moves through my hair
Cotton candy fields planted in the air
And even if the air gets too cold or the sun gets too bright,
Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be alright

Hey loves I have to use my own audio for instagram vids bc they get flagged for copyright now so uh yea

#pagesbyjosie #wordspace #words #poetry ? #prose ?


Learn to love yourself
cause no one can do 
it better than you.
Do not look for that love
in the eyes of another
until you see it in the mirror.

Learn to enjoy 
the sunshine on a face
without a mask.
Do not hide yourself
cause you may be afraid
of how others may find you.

Learn to come out
of that darkened carapace 
and strut your beautiful self.
Do not walk timidly
or as though burdened
by those heavy secrets.

Learn to lessen the tethers
and find comfort
in your friends and family.

Do not think they
have forever abandoned you
for they are always there.

Learn to love yourself...
Wanna know why?
Cause you are the only YOU!
Say Ok Bye
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Wrote this a couple months back ... thought I’d share w/ you 💙


There's a string that attaches me to the clouds,
clouds of closed eyes,
a rope line that runs against the backlight
and it's in the notes of the sound and the beat of the fingers
that I fall,
over and over again.
Landing on an abandoned roof one night,
or a cemetry with ferry lights and your tie
and in half sunken pine,with bottle of half drunken wine,
in the closing of eyes,
i seek another.
Another of this time
of me,
in nights,
with lights,
of you.

Design by : @shirshakdongol
Words by: @shreyapo

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My lookout. ♡ Sometimes some pensive moments, the sound of silence and nothing but mother nature to hold you close...is all that our soul needs.

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#Ball #Poem by #JohnBerryman
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#artwork #liker #artist
Ball Poem
What is the boy now, who has lost his ball.
What, what is he to do? I saw it go
Merrily bouncing, down the street, and then Merrily over—there it is in the water!
No use to say 'O there are other balls':
An ultimate shaking grief fixes the boy
As he stands rigid, trembling, staring down
All his young days into the harbour where
His ball went. I would not intrude on him,
A dime, another ball, is worthless. Now
He senses first responsibility
In a world of possessions. People will take balls, Balls will be lost always, little boy,
And no one buys a ball back. Money is external.
He is learning, well behind his desperate eyes, The epistemology of loss, how to stand up Knowing what every man must one day know And most know many days, how to stand up And gradually light returns to the street,
A whistle blows, the ball is out of sight.
Soon part of me will explore the deep and dark Floor of the harbour . . I am everywhere,
I suffer and move, my mind and my heart move With all that move me, under the water
Or whistling, I am not a little boy.


You are the reason why when I’m missing home, I no longer look for a place ...Elle Bor


How dare you ignite a fire in me?
only to walk away
and leave me to burn
How dare I allow you
to siphon all the slivers of my love
in a way that cannot be returned
It wasn’t holy water
that purified your hands
what was meant to douse my body
So I don’t scorch forever
How did you gut me from the inside
where once
you have been
When you’re only supposed
to peel the death off my skin?
But run along now
and find a nighttime prayer
Carry this charred body to the grave
my sweet pallbearer
Elle Bor


Loving you is a sin for which the right prayer is yet to be written...
Elle Bor


I wonder if your bed is sturdy enough to hold the many versions of me laying next to you. If only there’s a way for me to peel off my layers. But I’m always afraid to bare the real meat in my bones. Only because, nobody wants to sleep with just a beautiful mind anymore.
Elle Bor




Leave the leaving to me..


******************************************* “NO”
a mere two letter word
but uncloak its skeleton
and there you’ll find an enigma,
obeying its own lord
No you’re not meant to stay
No it wasn’t love,
these kisses from his ashtray
Maybe the parcel was labeled wrong
This note is,
for the mind to understand
Never for the heart
and its cobweb garland
where it sits misconstrued
as the message held
within the conundrum of a Rubik’s cube

Or perhaps it’s a futile cause
Our ego’s desperation
that bullies us
into searching for a faint yes
in the rubbles of deafening no’s
Elle Bor


Love is never wrong
It’s what we do for its cause
that makes us
part sinner
part saint


This youth is a disguise
sleeping with a patchwork
next to the space
where love should have been “Who can I fix today?”
she asks in waking.
Men’s hands are too small
to carry my heart,
the blood words,
and its many oceans surging
I wed them anyway
with a bandage
around their ring fingers
to mend their broken egos instead
Yet loneliness is unfailing
as pure as the magentas
in the cold evening
My knees are only weakened
by timeless poetry
Here, I have no match
beyond the male pleasantry
I don’t belong in this time
As the last of the romantics,
My blood is greased
by memories of the 16th century
I am married to the sublime
Not with his shallow tragedy
that is a disservice to the depth
of my old soul

My cartilage brittles
at the stronghold of virgin boys
who are tone deaf to any music
beyond their fat noise
Elle Bor


He loves me, even in parting
Just as the sky and its rainbow
in the clearing of rain...
Elle Bor


Tell me it isn’t love,
when you look at a wreckage
and still call it beautiful
Elle Bor


My soul is a concubine
Free handling the scraps
and wastes
of a great master
Namely, my pride
These fingers
have been lethalized
to ward off the traitors
that cajoles my chest
into unchaining the pain
They’re trained
to recognize the smell
of warm bodies
to vulnerability and its intrusion
and the stirring of any emotion
There goes my heart,
primed for battle
Numb and sturdy
to the pokes and prods
of loss and tragedy
Love is the guillotine
that commands my unsubtle beheading
A battle between surviving
and sinking into my own feelings
The tender ones
crumble first into dust
Why nice girls always finish last
Elle Bor


Weak hands find comfort
in the grip of my coattails
Yet my arms become scapegoats
when their hold runs stale
This sea is a measure,
a ravaging critic
sieving the strong from the coward -why many perish
in the depths of the Pacific
Our love was never the ocean,
only my heart is
Behold my throne of unbelonging
I am not yours nor his
My happily ever after is lived
in the ships that I let go
and the souls I drown
to be someone regal and new
No one can touch me better
than my own swells
So heed the sound
of those sirens and church bells
Don’t you see?
This is the part about love that isn’t free...
Elle Bor


I was reared in the womb of
and nurtured as the whore
of endless malady
My fat, red lip stick
has grudgingly stained
countless rows
of unwelcoming beds
Yet none of them
ever really asked
to be graciously paid
In the morrow of great sadness
my tears will always be invisible
to the dark world,
whose innocence is incorrigible
Thus, I breathe
in the air too polluted
that pain cannot rob the credit
for finding me too corrupted
But you came perfectly
in the false guise
of entirely saving me
Even when I was already
in the precipice of salvation
Expecting my calloused hand
to carry your barbed heart
as if this is the first time
I’m hearing this command

I’m sorry
but your body
feels far from heaven
Only that,
your stifling gravity
is one thing I’m weak in
I know of your skin
as the soil in my motherland
No birds make it here
just to fly by
This is where the famished souls
come to die
Elle Bor


📸 @atil.design
For it isn’t until you love
in this very way
when you finally see
That some debts
take a lifetime to pay
Quite like setting you free
Elle Bor


But darling, we know
about this everlasting bind,
drifting secretly around the universe
that has our hearts tethered
at both its ends
Hauling us back to each other
when we stray too far apart

It’s truly sad though,
how destiny became too clever
for we also know
that we can’t chase the wind forever...
Elle Bor


Old writes from an old laptop😪
************************************************************ Today sounds a whole lot like the formula of a seamless destruction, the one that has become my friend when you left again, after being gone for a while. Here now under the covers, bed-ridden from the ailment of your origin and paralyzed from this fresh version of starving for your skin. The monsoon is raging outside but the urge to reach out and beg for your return, is the only storm wreaking havoc in my flesh. I have failed to dissect this disease you infected me with but I know that by doing so will only render science into a state of baffled and unknowing.
Why is it called Love when it’s only losing? Losing our hearts. Losing our spirits. Losing every regard for our dignity and self-worth. Losing our minds from reason. Losing our sense of right and wrong.
Inside my chest is this unfathomable well that’s gushing out of me. I don’t know how to drain it but I must. I’m drowning beneath its undertow from parts of my body that’s screaming for your name. My heart is suffocating, near implosion from this broken record of the words,“I miss you.”
I’ve sought refuge within these four walls, still tasting your kiss from my lips, still famished for our love that has dissolved into the floorboards where we used to lay. I hear your laugh and mine through gin-riddled breaths and wine stained teeth. You told me I was yours and I said you were mine, even though you weren’t. You lied. I lied. And we both bathe in them inside the tub filled with rose petals and blind eyes.
We were love’s rare but clandestine mission, always behind closed doors, and only meant to live in the dark. Arms around each other, courtships, picnics in the park, dinner dates on the balcony under the merciless moon- mere aliens to our world. I know we tried to make things right, to sow our love beneath the stars but plants don’t grow in a sunless earth. Our final destination has always been same (cont.👇)