-Sheislove-

this message may be offensive 
You know, I'll never have a child out if heat in the moment. No. Not until I am properly healed by all my traumas, anxiety, Depression and all other things that make me a monster. If you have a child that you made when your mental health was fucked up, then I regret to say but, you are torturing an innocent soul. He/she will only get traumas by YOUR fucking antiques, and worst of all, they will have one thought, one thought that will make you question your parenthood, "why do I exist?" That question will haunt them even if they're healing.. trust me
          	
          	Some parents need to be mature enough to know that shouting and screaming at each other's faces in front of their shivering child will not make them look superior, instead, your fight will haunt then in their dark world. Accusing each other will only show how fucking immature you are, arguing won't get you anything

adropofhumanity

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

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