#mindlessfrenweh

My problem is you never wanted to hurt me;

but you did.

For a really long time.

And you let me sit with it. For a very long time.

And I had to live with it without acknowledgement or apologies.

My problem is that somewhere you knew what you were doing and you kept doing it.

My problem is that you showed me how badly you did not want to be with me and I was delusional to think this is a struggle phase and on the other side we’ll be alright, and in the process I normalised so much hurtful behaviour that now I cannot keep up even if things are better.

The imprints of each incident that broke my heart takes up space in my body and I do not have space to intake all these chances of love.

And I have no place to empty it out.

My problem is that when we’re falling in love we’re so giving and we’re so accommodating, but as time passes we’re just looking for ways to not be repulsive.

My problem is that you kept showing me how replaceable I am in your life for months and months, and when I reflected the same behaviour you questioned my feelings for you.

And now my heart has no idea whether to heal or hurt; to stab or scar; to cry or care.

My heart has no clue whom to turn to.

You gave me such a hard time and let all that trauma build inside of me and now I’m a jittery tower. And now you want to make things easier, I will collide in a strangers arms and it will not be a beautiful sight.

I never thought LOVE would become such an unbearable weighted feeling for me.

I’m trying to find a place in somebody’s heart who knows exactly how to treat me, I’m sick of explaining it.

Love, please wake me up when you find someone worthy to be awake with.

Scratch one spot a thousand times,

For you'll develop a wound.

Think too much on a storm,

Well, you'll build an ocean.

Walk too much on this earth,

you'll run out of body in the quicksand.

Days with days,

We cannot live,

In the conundrum of echoing.

He'll need to stop,

She'll need to stay.

Don't overdo the overdue,

Find spontaneity;

Scratch one spot only a hundred times,

reds will indicate the start of fire.

Stop right there,

The internet’s killing love, it seems,

Turning hearts into cold machine dreams.

Sunflowers flood the endless feed,

But white lilies are what my heart truly needs.

Matcha’s praised by the masses loud,

I’ll pass—too grassy, far too proud.

Opinions shaped, not by our mind,

But by algorithms, we’re all confined.

I’ve letters stashed in an old cookie jar,

Your words—my souvenirs from afar.

Romance was once in what we’d write,

Now it’s lost in digital light.

When will we stop this scripted play?

She’s stuck between no network zone; in this world that is now a wireless one.

Her soul is lost indefinitely.

She’s hunting for commoners who would still intertwine and get wired in her life.

She’s the girl who would step up to detangle a person out of their misery.

But people here, they don’t need saving; They need a strong Bluetooth.

Can someone tell her this isn’t 2016? People here don’t do attachments anymore.

Everything is on cloud; storage can be bought at a dime.

Batteries operate all separately. Togetherness has ceased to exist.

She finds herself amongst atoms that know how to make bonds and whom not to interact with. She doesn’t have to get awkward.

She should abandon romanticizing breakdown next to her shoulder people; it’s not a new promise it’s a goodbye.

Who’s going to tell her that people don’t sit in buses and share music anymore?

Who’s going to break it to her that the one she’s with will never understand her soul because he has moved on?

Who’s going to shake her out of her rom-com and finally experience the grey reality around her?

She is still in hopes that she will stumble someone who will be just like her, and they will talk themselves out of this reality. They will build a bubble and float in that feeling.

She’s searching souls in this anxiety driven shockwaves kind of beings full of extremism.

Can someone please break her heart already?

Can someone lend her a shoulder to recite her life on?

She’s sick of seeing 2-year warranty periods. She wants to land up with a Nokia N72 that will still work the same in 2050.

I would cry myself to sleep but it's monotonous.

So now I dance with my shadows, and verse lines with my alternate realities.

I've heard there's about a million more of me somewhere.

I can affirm four living in my brain.

One's a life in which I got you; we dance, we glance at each other in a never ending love song.

we twirl and define our abrupt consciousness. And you weep for me each night, and we lock arms under the moon. And everyday is like the very first time you laid eyes on me as I was yours.

One's a life in which I have lost you; I work and work till my eyes gutter.

I cash in pay cheques my speech slurs and stutters. And I hate cats now; because their vivid galaxy eyes remind me of you. I hate dissecting my food and feelings Infront of anybody.

One's a life in which I have fame; it's dull under all of my glitter gowns. I have moments where I feel wanted and it is in those moments where my urge to disappear from the face of the earth begins.

There's a life, one more;

in which who I am, I'm not quite sure.

Maybe it's my only conscience that lives as an original to greet your eyes.

And I never know whom to be, and what to smile. It's the most painful one so far. I hate mirrors in this one, I only reflect what your eyes tell me to do.

Sometimes I aspire to be the girl of your dreams, but sometimes I wish we were no more.

(than friends)

As I dance, and dance;

The moon cannot keep up and wishes to sleep.

I fall asleep too, it's like sliding from a hollow hole so steep.

And regain myself each mornings to swoon.

My words became too heavy to write down.

I talk constantly, to my brain.

(I’m doing it right now)

My eyes fail to convey (perhaps) my love for you.

I’m scared to admit, I still have feelings left to love.

I really hope you do not discover how broken I’ve become.

Loving you was the easiest thing I had to do,

it was like breathing to me.

Keeping you was the hardest thing I had to go through.

And the latter,

Letting you go.

I'm really good at loving you so hear me out.

If you ever find yourself having permanent feelings for me,

Feelings that feel like you have to give me every single inch of you.

Come back to me.

And I will love you.

And I will love you endlessly.

If you ever find your mind and body stable enough to not disrupt my mental ecosystem.

Come back to me and I will heal each broken part, every pinch of darkness within, all the untrue narratives in your head.

If you ever feel like giving me something, and if you ever feel the urge to never stop giving.

Come back to me and you will never have to spend a day in your sheets alone. I will always give you my warm embrace.

Come back to me when you're ready for me.

And if you don't think this is bound to happen.

Come back to me on my deathbed and tell me you remembered me.

Come back to me in my dreams, in my sleep, having all the different conversations we could never fully have.

Come back to me in fiction where I can give us a different happy ending every single time.

Come back to me in glimpses, in tears, in voice, in words, in moments.

Come back to me like breathing,

So I can take you all in,

a second at a time,

I can let you all go,

a second at a time.

Yes, I'd like that.