Gupt_lekhika

anyone up its been a tiring day

its my birthday month babies well i havent completed one story and my brain is running wild for new stories

Diiiii
          Hiiii

kya ye mardon ki fitrat hai,
          ya bas ek darr chhupa hota hai,
          jahan zimmedaari awaaz de,
          wahan dil kyun ghabra hota hai?
          
          jahan nibhaana farz bane,
          wahan kadam kyun ruk jaate hain,
          aur jahan ho pal bhar ki roshni,
          wahan se bhi log mud jaate hain?
          
          kya khubsurti se bhi darr lagta hai,
          ya usme khud ko khona padta hai,
          kya sach mein bhaagna aadat hai,
          ya bas sach ka bojh bada lagta hai?
          
          har aadmi aisa hota nahi,
          par kuch kahaniyaan sach bhi hoti hain,
          jo theher jaate hain aandhiyon mein,
          wahi asli himmat ki soorat hoti hain।
          
          fitrat ka naam de dena aasan hai,
          par sach thoda gehra hota hai,
          jo bhaag jaaye har mod se,
          shayad woh khud se hi dara hota hai।

good morning and goodnight

They said, heal yourself first,
          maybe then people will like you.
          But no one told me where the wound is,
          or how to touch it without breaking.
          
          They said time heals everything,
          like time is some kind of doctor.
          But how much time?
          And why does every day still hurt the same?
          
          I try to find a moment that belongs to me,
          but in this house every minute has witnesses.
          Doors open, questions asked,
          silence never fully mine.
          
          I know I need “me time,”
          but where do you hide it
          when the walls are thin
          and expectations are louder than your thoughts?
          
          So I sit with a heart that keeps asking,
          when will it stop hurting like this?
          Waiting for healing
          no one ever taught me how to begin. 

I Wish I Had Someone
          
          I wish I had someone
          I could call mine—
          not in the loud, claiming way
          people write in captions,
          but in the quiet way
          a tired heart whispers a name
          when the night grows too heavy.
          
          I wish I had someone
          to lean on
          when my thoughts turn into storms
          and the sky inside my chest
          won’t stop raining.
          Someone whose shoulder
          felt like a place
          where the world finally paused.
          
          I wish I had someone
          to hold me
          when I’m breaking—
          when the cracks in my voice
          tell stories I can’t explain,
          when the weight of everything
          becomes too much for two hands to carry.
          
          Just someone
          who would sit beside me
          in the silence,
          not asking me to be strong,
          not asking me to smile—
          just staying
          until the pieces of me
          remember how to breathe again.
          
          I wish I had someone
          who would see the fragile parts
          I hide behind laughter
          and say softly,
          “You don’t have to face this alone.”
          
          And maybe one day
          somewhere between
          all these quiet wishes
          and restless nights,
          I will find a heart
          that feels like home.

@Gupt_lekhika job 

@Gupt_lekhika bhaii sometimes they want me to be perfectly fine after a heavy trauma.. maggie bhi itni jaldi ready nhi hoti mai to insan hu

@Gupt_lekhika aahhhh loveee youuhhhhhh soo muchh okayy remember that