A place where paintings are drawn through words.
But the colours are smeared by the rain of emotions.
Where proses are made poetic.
Cover image: Google Images
I will never understand how it's easier to write of pain you've never felt before than write of love you've never experienced.
I'd rather meet you with three of our friends than not meet you at all. But you'd choose the latter. You have. Over and over again. It used to matter but you know how you realise most of your pain is because you feel too much so you stop feeling? You hang your humanity in the balance? To enjoy what little respite comes from the temporary unfeeling?
Not knowing you was never an option, not getting close to you, never a choice. This was always meant to be, I just wish we were too. But what good can really come out of two people, one feeling more than the other? What can it ever provide, except pain?
I am jealous of people who get numb after feeling immense pain. Because here, pain is simply replaced by more pain. What wouldn't I give to not feel, to stop.
(c) Ishita Singh 2021
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