StRaNgEr

Do u use Neobook as a publishing outlet?

All that was left ahead of me,
          Was called life,
          And all that I had left behind,
          Was sadly me..
          
          So I walked on,
          Alone and lost,
          Searching for a new beginning,
          Hoping to find a new me...
          
          In this journey of hopelessness,
          Will you come with me?
          In this trip to the dawn of discoveries,
          Will you lend me a hand?
          
          I closed my eyes,
          And reached out to her,
          She did nothing but same as me...
          Only if the mirror could be a window to my mind,
           just like it had become the clear water to my body...
          
          :))
          
          ps- writing after a long time, idk if it makes any sense. hope so didnt bother anyone. But whoever read this, hope u r doing fine and having a great day ❤️

Do you publish on Neobook ?

a token of kindness [ 18th july 2023 ] 
          
          insecure poems, confident aches; inspired decades yet everyday a death. stretching silences, concrete words; homes that melt and walls that echo. floating feet, rotten flowers; waves that pause in an ocean that seamlessly flows. 
          
          fluttering thoughts, fiddling feelings; coloured mouths and disappearing promises. hibernating lights and travelling darknesses; lingering lilacs and luminescent shadows. 
          
          minds of pearls, mouths of venom; do not lose by playing to their strengths. corridors of history, weaponsied love; transient nor malleable. fragile loneliness, screaming insecurities;  not every sunset has to be colourful. 
          
          sun of rain, thunders of frustration; mornings like amnesia, cloudless burdens. midday pride, repentance heavy; grief stricken victories, blackbird joys. mansions of footsteps, tears of dreams; we are all graves carrying the dying spark of life in us. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness [ 10th july 2023  ] 
          
          mountains and decorators, exhaustion and evil eye; surviving bones and careless finds. funeral floods and tumbling sorrows; forests and bridges of laughters and morals. feelings migrated, clouds and dresses; that which rains does not always bring about harvest. 
          
          clocks of manners, a road of residences; hearts like maples marked along fences. pictures of politeness, smiles like wounds; world a death of another, burial grounds like jasmine blooms. 
          
          mornings of questions, blurred evening attempts; youth of trial and error, life a honeycomb aged. dreams of wounds, dreams like a father's disappointment; storms like swaying birth, storms sometimes like corpses of discipline.  
          
          disassociated honour, ribbed filters; what binds is not glue, rather, mutual respect. eastern wind and crepuscular billows; howling books and silent words. the majesticness of months yet the solemnity of years; to the hearts that wriggle with pain, silence is delicate, thin ice-like elegance. 
           #adropofhumanity 

Thank you for the follow!!!

Heyaa wssup

Dropping some love
          
          ˚∧＿∧  　+        —̳͟͞͞♡
          (  •‿• )つ  —̳͟͞͞ ♡         —̳͟͞͞♡ +
          (つ　 <                —̳͟͞͞♡
          ｜　 _つ      +  —̳͟͞͞♡         —̳͟͞͞♡ ˚
          `し´
          
          Have a great day!! 

a small token of kindness [ 20th february 2023  ] 
          
          blistering hope and disrupted forces, stomach of dirt and howling cresses; scraping blossoms and sunken springs. hollowed harvests, assaulted reaps; jeopardised desires and slivering skies. 
          
          mismatched woods and stolen petals; metaphorical gentleness and articulated coherence. dripping hearts, compendium ashes; ornate gale, weathered pages. 
          
          vintage eyes and handwritten libraries, fictional moon and escaped fantasies. inspiring nostalgia, doubtful guqin; poisonous inquiry, burial of heaven. vulnerability guarded, vindictive portraits; a monster of human needs, a devil of emotions. 
          
          brush-wood sprains and sinister autumns; stubborn walls and bittersweet burns. fluid memories, flamed nerves; familiar souvenirs,  a winter fued. a sadness of sharpness, bitter home in throat; caress the storms just as sadness has caressed tired norms. 
           #adropofhumanity

“The emotion of love is not self-sustaining; it endures only when lovers love many things together, and not merely each other.” 
          – Walter Lippman (Happy Valentine's Day!)