#personalwords

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If you hate my story. I’m sorry, it was not written for you.... #personalwords #taifcity #saudiarabia #arabian #fruitmarket #fruitmarkettaif #arabianlook #arabian (at Taif City, Kingdom Of Saudia Arabia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CQ29GI-sW8J/?utm_medium=tumblr

You think it's easy? Constantly being reminded that "unique" is just another lie told by our society. If people really believed in that, wouldn't the world be completely different? Unique means appreciative. Appreciative means respect. Respect means caring. Caring means love. And love, well, that just brings me right back to unique... more lies. We are deceived not only by our "uniqueness," but by those who talk about it, our loved ones. Those who we wish to be. Those who wish to be us. I will never be what I want to be. I will always desire to have what I cannot. Who can blame me? I'm always reminded of what I am not compared to my siblings. You'd think that I would be a mixture of all of them, but no, I'm just a mixture of what they're not. Exactly what my parents don't care that I am. Of course I love them, but is it mutual? This is where love is deceiving. I will never be what they want me to be... my siblings. Does that make me unique or resentful?

HOPE. The word that makes it seem like our lives depend on it. The word that mankind is often times deceived by. I, for one, have a different take on "hope." To me, this word only provides a band-aid to the brokenness that is our life. Hope in the wrong person. Hope in the mistaken outcome. Hope in the reward that we cannot receive. No, that is no light at the end of the tunnel. That is the long, disappointing, dark abyss that is called HOPE.

When one door closes another door opens even wider 

"Eu te espero Como colheita, semeadura noturna Como planície que aguarda arado Vastidão Como as aves migratórias Em ávidas asas fazendo verão Como seiva que corre a folha Caule e raiz Em ordem reversa: . Eu te escrevo Alimento minha alma Minhas mãos que traçam letras Atiradas ao longe, alcançam tua imagem Planando alto, céu de Brigadeiro Preenchem o vazio de uma história a ser escrita . Eu te adivinho Por entre constelações firmadas Por detrás dos meus olhos Atrás do infinito onde a noite, Inquieta Faz a curva, e volta E deita, na cama-grama de orvalho Abraçada e contida no teu laço Morna, anunciando a aurora . Letras chegam antes de meu corpo Ressoam, agrupam, riscam aram acres do teu ser em meu peito E segues, semeando Minha colheita porvir - Tua seiva ascende Pelas minhas avenidas vermelhas Veias que pulsam Alimentam! E no céu, meteoros de pensamento Traçam o arco do teu sorriso Um clarão, cadente Um pedido, urgente Enquanto eu te espero..." . "Plantio Noturno de Espera", MRTH.BORDIN Direitos Reservados / All rights reserved @mrthbordin . Picture: interaction with "Starry Night" - original by Vincent Van Gogh, 1890 . 🌔⭐️📖✒️💭💬 #starrynight #interaction #vangogh #vincentvangogh #plantionoturnodeespera #wordsbymrthbordin #poetry #poems #mywords #personalwords #writtenemotions #mywriting #mywrittenwords #poetryofinstagram #poetrycommunityofinstagram #poesia #poemas #espera #noite #waiting #thoughts #mrthbordin #mah #bordin