They will never know how does it feel to leave your incomplete books . They don't know they are like a child to me. Abandoning them means abandoning my babies. They think it's just a book. It's my feelings. They are my babies.
They will never know how does it feel to leave your incomplete books . They don't know they are like a child to me. Abandoning them means abandoning my babies. They think it's just a book. It's my feelings. They are my babies.
They were as beautiful as roses, but roses carry thorns too. When I tried to hold them too tightly, the thorns cut deep and left my hands bleeding. Now I’m slowly letting go of those thorns, so my wounded hands can finally heal.
His pov :
My heart burnt like hell , but the yearning for him so deep that his one glance made the burning sensation peaceful.
When the poetry in my self will die?? Like bc tu mar rahi hai phir bhi kaise ye soch leti hai
S: What you hate most?
A: Maybe eyes admiration.
S: How can someone hate it?
A: I can .
S: But why you hate it?
A: It made me think eyes admiration is love. When it
wasn't.
S: eyes admiration is eyes admiration. Why you think
it was love?
A: You didn't see what I see. I hate eyes contact and
eyes admiration. They all are lies.
S: Who made you think like this?
A: No one beside my dumb head. I thought they were
In love. But they weren't.