مجرة القلم

من أنت لكي تدمر هاجسي وحروفي..

تحمل لؤلؤ البحر وغروب الشمس معا..

أخبرني من أنت فها أنت قلبت موازين شعري..🖤🍂

ليس كل شاعر يكتب… لكن كل شعور هنا يُترجم

فلا انتهاءَ لهُ، ولا في البُعدِ ينكسرُ.

وإن قالوا محالٌ، قلتُ يكفيني هواكِ،

In this day and age, deception is no longer a fleeting trick… it has become a way of life, one that some have mastered with chilling ease.The same faces that smile at you might be the first to betray you when the opportunity arises.Trust is no longer given easily, Because we learned the hard way that intentions are unseen, and that beautiful words mean nothing.We began to observe, analyze, and doubt… not because we are bad, but because we were broken enough to know the truth.The pain is no longer in the loss.

No one notices you…

because you seem fine.

You laugh, you talk, you walk among people,

but inside… something is quietly broken.

You don’t feel sad like before,

and you don’t feel happy either.

You just… exist.

As if you’re playing your role in life,

without actually being in it.

The hardest feeling isn’t pain,

it’s when your emotions disappear…

and no one realizes you’re no longer the same.

Maybe…

this is what real exhaustion feels like:

to be present,