On the alluring night, I gazed at the two roads in affright Shall I g0, this way. or take the detour? "Oh sweet lord, whom shall I ask?" For this is a decision one should ask oneself The fates have spoken Threads of destiny woven For the allotment of mv misery is greater in one With masked desires and trembling feet I look into the future and there I am- safe but unfulfilled But then thorns have aways been more captivating than roses For if a man is bound to choose, he shall always choose the one that thrills his heart Decades thereafter, the soul will look back at when the mind was puzzled A nostalgic smile with wrinkled eyes is all I shall use to reminisce For my life is something out of a fairytale And it all comes back to the thorns

i. In every friendship, there’s a person who’s the lover, and one who’s the beloved. There isn’t anything bad to say about either of them, nor am I going to stereotype them. All I mean to say is, you know which one you are. ii. My best friend and I met when we were seven. We had the same names, and we couldn’t think of anything that was funnier than that at the time. We were attached to the hip at school, and drove our mothers crazy at home by never letting go of their phones to talk to each other. iii. When we were ten, I realised that most of my friends were her friends, but her friends weren’t mine. I realised that in birthday parties, whenever I cut the cake I called her to the front to cut it with me. On her birthdays, she laughed, her skin basking in the glow of compliments and attention, and sliced small pieces, offering it to people near her. I remained in the back, quiet, free of the shoves of children but also the love of my best friend. iv. People say that no one ever wants to be loved, they want to be in love. I think that after a certain amount of time even loving gets exhausting if you aren’t loved too. v. By the age of thirteen, everyone was getting crushes or getting crushed upon. One day, our only guy friend pulled me apart from the class, and told me he liked someone. My heart started beating irrhythmically, waiting and already regretting what he was going to say. He asked me whether I would help him get his girl. I urged him to tell me who it was. He blushed, sighed, and said my name. vi. What I didn’t remember in the loudness of my heartbeats was that it was her name too. vii. Many boys, since then, have asked me what my best friend’s ideal date and favourite movie is. They are ready to do whatever it takes to get her. I never tell them the truth because none of them deserve being with her. viii. Maybe, though, it is for another reason also. ix. Maybe, I am simply scared that when the right person comes along, I will go from being the lover to the bystander. (And she will always be loved.)

A prose inspired by the amazing phenomenal poem "The Table" by Ezra Pound, this work is a collection and manifestation placed into words of almost everything I want to be heard but never had the chance to say. https://www.instagram.com/dejectedduplicate A lone figure entered the grocery store With an empty cart and list in their hands; They laid down a loaf of bread And a tray of fruits into the basket, They stowed the shopping announcements From the overhead speakers into the cart too. In there they put the 3 missed morning alarms, In there they put the used backspace button, In there they put the feelings that still lingered, In that cart lies their dreams both ideal and realistic. Every single moment that happened in their life; Meaningful or Insignificant, With Content or With Regret, Purple or Blue, Chocolate dipped or Jam filled, They placed it in the cart irrespective of its trait. The one cheesy love song they listen to on repeat, And the song that made them cry for days on end, Even the very act of shedding those tears They entered the confines of the evergrowing cart. The countless days they wanted to spend With those they loved and cared for, They nestled the spending of those times into the cart. The person they met in their dreams That gave them the answer to life's mystery They placed them into the cart. So many nights they spent wailing over past woes And so they put the hours 12 am to 4 am into the cart. And their wish for today and tomorrow, And the hope that life will turn out well, And the empty blank sheet that they call the future, All went into the cart. When asked whether they wanted plastic or paper bags, They indeed placed the question into the cart as well.

https://theunspokenthoughts._/ a piece of my heart will always crave for your love a part of my soul will always hold your presence a portion of my brain will always replay your sweet memories just so my physical state know that you're just a far not apart from me

This piece is of a woman's body, drawn in tasteful nudity, of how it is seen through her eyes-- How her body belongs to her, and her alone. https://instagram.com/nitchydoesstuff

https://theunspokenwords._/ "for you i would steal the stars" but all the stars are promised by lovers to their other half and i was late to that part but for you i would steal all your tears stand with you to face all your fears and be the one who's always there

https://www.instagram.com/poetrybywasham?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y%3D Crying and holding onto my heart's broken pieces; It was someone I just met within the darkness of me. I wondered, it was in the most miserable condition anyone could ever be; But when she looked at me, I could finally see; It was my mirror image, my reflection indeed; She wanted to ask why I didn't love her, didn't she? I shuddered because I knew I was unjust to her; I loved everyone but not her, I agreed. Despite this, I broke all of her dreams. But she just said; “All I want is acknowledgement from thee.” I was the one who captured her in this slavery; Finally, I set her free.

https://theunspokenwords._/ all those pale words i always ignored and "i love you" highlighted in red made it excuse gave you chances thinking you would change but seeing you not fill the blank spaces i left

https://instagram.com/piano_for_a_heart You. Me. Them. Laughter. One would conjure in their mind- a belief that laughter' is the odd one out. But that would be a mistake. The odd word is Me. Strangers striking up conversations with one another. Voices trying to get past the ceiling. I'd rather not be a part of the foolishness. That's not me. But I am so lonely. Looking for a smile directed my way, searching for a long-lost friend as if I'm ravenous for company. But after our eyes do meet, and avert- I know better than trying to meet their gaze anymore. Oh, finally a group of people calling me in. But what are these strange words they speak? I wish I still owned my solitude. I'll try joining in. Don't leave me alone- again. I'd better be alone again- It'll just be Me' and My Lonely'.

In life, we must be appreciative of whatever we have. There are far too many lost and lonely individuals. Despite having so much, we frequently forget. These possessions we have are heavily indebted. Be grateful for what you have and express your love. Because we are the fortunate ones. Be joyful and amazing. But most importantly, spread the word about your blessings. To us, they are simply things, but to someone else, they are priceless.