I know the fact that you've been through the same pain before doesn't hurt less and that the idea that all of this will go away isn't allowing any oxygen in. The first time you've tasted vodka it caused you a sore throat, and although your friends asked you to spit it, you didn't; because you thought that what causes a sore throat now is your favorite drink the next night. But it's next night already and it still hurts. And no matter how many times you've been through this, it will always have the same painful consequences. Sometimes you think you've built an armor against hurt, sometimes you think you've witnessed it all and that you've been through the worst so you grew defensive enough. But when it comes to the heart, every disappointment hurts like it's the first time. Nothing is indifferent to the heart. The heart knows no "I've been through this before". The thing is, I believe one must be grateful for being able to feel the pain, every. single. time. One must pray for always remaining as soft and as vulnerable as a-never-been-hurt 14 y/o.
Thank you God for all the hurt I feel and thank you because I really feel it. Thank you God for all the pain I go through and thank you for not allowing it to ruin my heart. Thank you God that despite all these sufferings my heart is still hurtable.
Deceiving everyone by beauty of dark,
trying to number the countless stars,
he called me out on façade I wore,
but I always excelled at hiding in scars.
He said I glorified pleasure in pain,
making him the villain of my quatrains;
Never understood the desperation,
to forge a symphony for verses' strain.
Only laughed on stumbling across rhymes,
my tears only fell on pages of lost time,
I often lost my heart to a hopeless fantasy,
but lost in making my own words sublime.
My failed attempts through broken fingers,
I smiled even as emptiness lingered,
They were called upon to protect me from evil,
but became my devil's actual harbinger.
I traced the blade over my disfigured skin,
red pearls fall with a soundless din,
my screams muffled in layers of vacuum,
separating my soul from my blood's kin.
Shades of blue that my lips wore so well,
my ears reaching out for that final knell,
My eyes locking with the setting sun's,
I just wished he wouldn't curse me to hell ---Katyaini Ranjan Choudhary